It was the first time in a month or so that I had driven my dad's Porsche. The last time I sat in it, he was beside me. Because of the nature of the car, it has to be driven ever so often, so I took it out yesterday to run errands. It was my dad's hobby. It was something my dad really enjoyed doing. On beautiful sunny weekends he and Mila would take a ride in the Porsche. I'm not sure how often he took the top down but yesterday I sure would have if I knew how!

As I was driving memories of my dad filled my mind. Many had to do with the car.

The first time I drove it my dad had only had the car for a few weeks. I was home from Florida on a summer break. My dad asked me if I wanted to drive it, but I said 'no', knowing the worth of the car and fearful that I would do something to mess it up. My dad insisted that I drove it so I climbed in the unfamiliar drivers seat and drove around Danville. All was fine and dandy until I tried to pull in a parking lot a little too quickly. The incline going into the lot was a little too steep for the low riding car and there was a scrape that echoed for what seemed like forever. Kinda looking at my dad through my peripheral vision, I squinted my eyes and mouth and said, 'I'm so sorry.' Through gritted teeth he let out a, 'That's ok.' LOL! Leave it to me to do something like that. Thankfully I have had no other incidents like that.

It was less than a month ago that my dad and I took the car out for a drive to run and errand or too. My dad's vision was getting a little poor and after some persuasion from me, he let me drive saying, 'Well, I could drive and all, but you know, you may have to drive this car sometime so you should practice.'

So as I was driving yesterday, these thoughts and memories permiated my mind. It's just a car. Nothing special, and of no eternal value, but the memories that it holds are dear, and I have to say that it is going to be hard to let go of.