My Grandpa's old truck

My grandfather owned a very old truck. He bought this truck before I was born. This truck was a Chevrolet  pickup truck with a very ugly dark Brown color. It had one cabin two doors, and one colorful but very uncomfortable rug on the big seats. My grandpa would turn on the radio and we would listen to old music and to every radio stations for hours. Every time we would go to our ranch that about four hours away from home  my grandparents, my brother, my two cousins and me would squeeze all together in the three seats of the truck. Six persons in three seats of an old truck for four hours or more on the road created very special  infancy memories. Every time we would leave home and get in to my grandpa's truck we would fights about who sits next to  my grandfather,  which was the best spot to sit in ,  or who is in control of the music,  or who is in front of the air conditioner, or who sits above  the seat belt  or  who seats on my grandma’s legs or who sits next to the window. All the decisions that four kids had to make and not once did my cousins and I ever agreed. My grandpa never wanted to get a bigger truck or borrow a bigger one for the ride, but the truck was a fun place to spend time with the family. It was a safe place were to play games of who counts more White Volkswagen cars or who counts more dogs on the road and the winner would seat next to my grandfather on the way home. My grandpa loved this truck so much  he  never wanted to get rid of it even though he had money to buy a much better one. Eventually the truck started failing, the air conditioner didn’t work anymore but my grandpa wanted to keep the place in which we made all those memories. Even when we all grow up he still wanted to keep the memory of his little grandchildren  laughing, singing and playing. I remember seeing trucks like that on the street and thinking maybe it’s my grandpa,  that looks like his truck so I would check for the dead fish sticker he put on the back of the truck, because he likes fishing. Through all the car wrecks, through all the fat tires,  and through all the years, he would take the truck to get it fixed and never thought of selling it. Finally after many years of trying to convince him he decided to get a new truck because it had a lot of damages and it started to smell weird. It was really hard for him to let go of the truck, it was harder to find someone who would buy it in those conditions, and it was even harder to let go of the place where we made those memories, but he realized that even after all these years the memories that were made in that truck are forever.

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