The jeep was delivered to may fix it up shops for welding, new seat covers, welding on the floor boards, mostly because you could see through the floor. And yet when he brought it home I just couldn't see it. From the depths of my heart I would say, looking better. Ya, right.
One thing that was not being fixed was an engine problem. After many a good mechanics looked at it, the problem was not clear. Then my nephew, Paul said he could figure it out if we weren't in a hurry. As we left it in his yard we drove off and over our shoulder waved goodbye. I new it was not going to look different but John would be happy.
Weeks later, my brother Marv called, and with a whisper said, "Don't say anything if John is there but does he want the jeep to be restored to an original look." With true trust I said nope, and the call was over.
Months later, my nephew called and announced the jeep was fixed and it sounded great, I shook my head and raised my eyes and said, sounds good but that won't help the bucket of junk called the jeep.
John was so excited for an French Indian hardly breathing man, but I could tell. Driving into Paul's driveway, John noticed the jeep was not in the yard. He wondered why, I said silly boy would you leave that piece of junk in the open. He smiled and said maybe not.
Funny thing is Marv, Paul and two other nephews, John and Leo were also there. When we came to the door of the garage, Marv and the boys lead John in. John just stood there, and then with a higher voice said, "those are my wheels. No one laughed, but Paul said that's your jeep.
John at that moment realized he was looking at a gift way beyond his dreams. They did this because, just because. It was a gift from the heart. At that moment in time he realized what family is, something special. The trip home was without words. He looked into the mirror and was in ah. And that my dear friends is maybe why the jeep cannot be sold.
I wish he would tuck me in like he does the jeep. Although I would have to sleep in the garage.