Today we said goodbye to dear Bertha. Although I did not mention her by name, you met Bertha in the last post in the “I’m so excited to go to the gym” picture of Chris. See that beauty just behind Chris? That is Bertha.
Chris and Bertha first met in Pennsylvania while Chris was in college.
Together, Chris and Bertha “hauled things” for Chris’s dad’s pool company over many summers, during which, their truck-human romance blossomed.
Bertha adored Chris’s tan triceps:
Chris admired Bertha’s shiny side panels and capacity to “haul things”.
Following college, the happy couple moved to Illinois. There, they met me. Although the possibility for tension existed between me and Bertha as we vied for Chris’s affections, Bertha finally agreed that, as long as I wasn’t a truck (which I’m not), I could join their lives.
In August of 2009, we moved to Oklahoma. For this move, Chris towed Bertha behind a U-haul. As Bertha’s ability “to haul things” is her sexiest characteristic in Chris’s eyes, it was sad to tow her; sad, that is, until we realized that Bertha was basically wake-boarding down the highway and we were generous humans to be giving her the time of her truck life.
For four years in Oklahoma, Bertha and Chris did everything together: if Chris worked late at the lab, Bertha stayed late too; if Chris worked out for two hours, Bertha waited patiently outside the gym.
After such glory days with Bertha, it was a tough talk Chris and I had a few months ago when we decided that, devastatingly, it just wouldn’t be practical to tow Bertha back across the country when we move to Massachusetts at the end of July.
And today was the day the man said goodbye to his lover, er, truck.
She is going to a good home. She’ll be happy.
I do not believe that I will ever fully convince Chris that, as professors in Massachusetts, we will be OK, life will be OK, without us owning a vehicle with which to “haul things.” “But what if there’s something that needs hauling?” he’ll query. And I’ll just sigh, because he’ll be right. Our days of being able to “haul things” are forever over.
To end, an ode in pictures to Bertha’s beauty:
Her hood, lovely as the morning dew upon a rose blossom
Her large side dent, glorifying her striking uniqueness of character
Her admirably functional passenger door (that was regularly crawled through to get to the driver’s side door because the driver’s side door is too hard to close)
Bye Bertha. It’s been good.