I am a classic car fanatic. The beautiful car I drive is a 1969 Plymouth Fury. It was what my paternal Granddad drove when I was born in 1971, & I even have old family movies of him & Grandmom driving the car across the country in 1971! He gave it to my dad in 1975 when Dad’s car was stolen. Dad sent the plymouth to the junkyard in 1979 with a bad transmission & rear end rather than fix her up since that was a very expensive prospect. It was my favorite car of both Granddad’s & Dad’s, but I figured it was long gone many years ago.. until I found it in 2005 at a flea market! LOL The owner sold it to me, & was kind enough to wait until the mortgage refi I was dealing with back then went through so I could buy it, which took a couple of months. I have since checked my VIN with Dad’s records (he kept meticulous maintenance records of his cars in his younger days) & yes, indeed- my ’69 Plymouth is the car he & Granddad once owned. This car is a gift from God as far as I’m concerned! 🙂 I even wrote a free ebook about the story. Just check the free ebooks link on my website at http://www.CynthiaBaileyRug.com if you care to check it out.
The point of my long winded story is I was just outside washing said car, & although she is a big ole beast & washing her can be quite the chore, I was happy. It feels so good to have this car that once was so loved by my Granddad. It must be obvious, because my mother has fits every time she sees it. She loves to say “I would NEVER own a car that your granddad owned!” “HARUMPH!!! I don’t understand how so many junked old cars can be on the road *insert evil eye to my car here*” “I don’t understand why anyone wants a big car! It’s such a waste!” “I would NEVER even ride in a car with more than 100,000 miles on it!” & other charming comments…
It just never fails to amaze me how anyone, let alone a mother, can be so calloused as to hate so passionately whatever her own child enjoys. Seems to me that my mother should be glad I have something that means so much to me, but OOOHHHH NOOOOO. She always said my dad’s family was nothing but “dumb hillbillies” & therefore, were worthy of her disdain. (We’re from Virginia, my mother & her family are from Pennsylvania- it’s like some weird Civil War re-enactment going on between my parents!) Never mind the Baileys are good people who love unconditionally, give to those in need, etc… they didn’t measure up to my mother’s ridiculous standards. Yet her own family- full of mental illness, adultery, abusers of every kind, psychopaths, her grandfather was in the KKK- are worthy of her respect.
Amazing thing, the mind of a narcissist, isn’t it?? & no, not amazing in a good way!