Oh yes. Plenty of fond memories of our first cars. I remember riding in Joey’s red 1963 Chevy Nova. It was great. Well, actually, it was rather NOT great, but that depends on how you view things. The truth is that it was old. It was super loud and needed work often. There were parts of the body that were completely rusted through. It had no seat belts. It barely passed inspection to be legal.
But it was his and sometimes he would take me on dates in it, so I loved it. One of the best things about it was the front bench seat. I could scoot over and sit right next to Joey in the middle of the bench seat while he drove. Joey technically needed both hands to drive, but sometimes he would put his arm around me while we rode along. This never lasted for too long because he needed his right hand to turn or adjust gears. (I think the Nova didn’t have power steering or something. Or maybe it had a steering fluid leak. He really did need both hands to turn.) It became a bit of a joke. He would put his arm around me. Take it off. Turn. Put his arm around me again. Take it off. Turn again. Put his arm around me again. It was cute.
My Kermit car would always have a special place in my memories simply because it was my first car. But add to that the drive we took in it around “our block” and the car itself became unforgettable. “Our block” got a couple other uses over the years as it kind of became our go-to spot for discussions that were rather serious in nature.
The second time we made laps driving it, we discussed college, holding hands and praying together. The college thing scared us. We worried the Lord might steer us in different directions for college and the thought of being separated did not sound appealing. We concluded we were only juniors and had plenty of time before needing to worry about that sort of thing. We decided that night to begin praying about it together. On the one hand, we genuinely wanted to follow whatever the Lord had for us. But on the other hand, we desperately wanted to be together or at least within driving distance of each other when we went off to college. Could we have both? We knew praying about it was the best answer.
That was also the night that we began holding hands with our fingers between our fingers. (Does that type of hand-holding have a name? I don’t know.) Anyway, when you limit physical contact the way we did, any and every touch is special. We savored each held hand, each hug, each minor touch.
I remember looking at our intertwined fingers that night and enjoying the fact that my hand looked so small in his. Some girls have tiny petite hands that look small all the time, but not me. When I looked at my hand in his that night, I felt tiny and petite. His hands were huge compared to mine. His hands looked strong and I remember my head being filled with thoughts of peace. Something about his touch calmed me. I trusted him to be the strong one, the leader, my protector and my best friend. It was in my Kermit car that I related these things to him.
So you can imagine my sorrow when, unfortunately, my Kermit car met an untimely death in the middle of our junior year. An oncoming truck incorrectly assumed that I, a rather new sixteen year-old driver, would know how to slam on my breaks and stop so as not to hit him when he turned left in front of me. Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt. But Kermit was.
I got a little over $1,300 from insurance for my car that really wasn’t worth that much so it really wasn’t a horrible deal in the end. I also got to ride with Joey or one of my good friends everywhere for about two months until I found my dream car.
My dream car was a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle that I purchased with my insurance money. It was sky blue so I named it Cloud. (It made sense to me.) Very important to name your cars, you know. Old Beetle Bugs make that sputtering go-cart sound when you drive them. I grew to really love my Cloud and the sputtering sound that came from it.
