A Baby Blue VW Rabbit with a tennis ball for a gear shift--Brooks Barnhard didn't fit in it anymore :) and sold it to my parents. It was only supposed to go 35mph MAX. I bet you can guess that Bryan worked around that--somehow!
A Tan Dodge Racer with a Camper--who knew they even sold Dodges pretending to be pick-ups? I called it his "grandpa car". Bryan called it his Love Shack on wheels! :0
A White Toyota 4x4 Pick-up-Finally! A vehicle a teen could be proud to drive! His last foreign auto!
A Navy Blue Ford Pick-Up-the first car HE bought! He was a Ford guy.
Finally, A Gunmetal Grey Ford 150, 4-door, Triton Motor, tricked out--now that is a truck a man can enjoy! He did.
My dad brought Bryan's truck to his house last night. I tried to be prepared to drive up to my parent's home and see it in the driveway--but how could I be prepared? I am not ready for any of this stinking lousy stuff. I sat in his truck. I sat in his spot. The cab smelled like him, his fancy men's body spray, jasmine gardenia air freshner, mints, and faint cigarette odor. I never saw him smoke. I touched his coin collection. I looked through his Cds. I didn't recognize the names of most of the artists. There was Metallica. I was never into that. Of course, we both shared a fondness for Fleetwood Mac and the Eagles--so there was that. And Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby Christmas--he didn't listen to it this year.
When I put Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" in the CD and turned it up, I knew I was undone. His ringtone hadn't gone off once since Dad brought his cell phone back from the coroner's--but that was the song he used. I don't know why, he's never been to Alabama. There was lots I didn't know about my brother. "Lord, I'm coming home to you"?
MAKE IT GO AWAY! BRING HIM BACK! TAKE ME HOME! OH GOD!
I can't say or do or think or wish or pray or do absolutely ANYTHING about this awful hurt. So I cried and listened to his song again and sat in his spot in his car and missed him so bad I felt like my insides were going to spill out the gaping hole in my heart.
A Tan Dodge Racer with a Camper--who knew they even sold Dodges pretending to be pick-ups? I called it his "grandpa car". Bryan called it his Love Shack on wheels! :0
A White Toyota 4x4 Pick-up-Finally! A vehicle a teen could be proud to drive! His last foreign auto!
A Navy Blue Ford Pick-Up-the first car HE bought! He was a Ford guy.
Finally, A Gunmetal Grey Ford 150, 4-door, Triton Motor, tricked out--now that is a truck a man can enjoy! He did.
My dad brought Bryan's truck to his house last night. I tried to be prepared to drive up to my parent's home and see it in the driveway--but how could I be prepared? I am not ready for any of this stinking lousy stuff. I sat in his truck. I sat in his spot. The cab smelled like him, his fancy men's body spray, jasmine gardenia air freshner, mints, and faint cigarette odor. I never saw him smoke. I touched his coin collection. I looked through his Cds. I didn't recognize the names of most of the artists. There was Metallica. I was never into that. Of course, we both shared a fondness for Fleetwood Mac and the Eagles--so there was that. And Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby Christmas--he didn't listen to it this year.
When I put Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" in the CD and turned it up, I knew I was undone. His ringtone hadn't gone off once since Dad brought his cell phone back from the coroner's--but that was the song he used. I don't know why, he's never been to Alabama. There was lots I didn't know about my brother. "Lord, I'm coming home to you"?
MAKE IT GO AWAY! BRING HIM BACK! TAKE ME HOME! OH GOD!
I can't say or do or think or wish or pray or do absolutely ANYTHING about this awful hurt. So I cried and listened to his song again and sat in his spot in his car and missed him so bad I felt like my insides were going to spill out the gaping hole in my heart.
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2 comments:
My Dear Neice,
You are so wonderfully talented. What you have created here is so AWESOME!!! In time this WILL become tolerable. I don't think you ever really get over it; just learn way's in which to deal with it. You have created a great place in which people can come and remember what a great man Bryan was. Your children and everyone else will have this remarkable place in which to laugh, cry, and re-connect with one another. Which I believe would really please Bryan... Remember that we are here for you to lean on.
Peace & Love,
Ingrid Klungreseter
Aunt
oops! I am trying to make this blog as accurate as possible for a Klungreseter. I need to make a correction: the VW was Didi Barnhard's first car--NOT her brother Brook's. Her are some more details about that little gem, in her own words:
"I have so many memories of driving on the freeway with white smoke trailing behind me, stuffing as many people into the car as we could, jiggling the starter unit and my ignition key to get it to go, and enjoying the back seat springs on my back!!"
It was Bryan's first car too and I know that he and Dan had many adventures in it like Didi did!
Thanks for the input friend! I had forgotten about the crazy ignition!
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