When the Dream Ends

My dream was to own a Corvette Stingray. This obsession with corvettes started when I first glimpsed one of those beauties in the 1970s. There was a sweet yellow and green Stingray that I just had to have, for nothing could be cooler than driving down the freeway with everyone staring after you.

For years my love for Corvettes was from a distance. If I were in a car and someone passed us in a Corvette, I would scream, “Look at that beauty!” Because of the slight issue I had with driving a car (I couldn’t!), the next best thing was to marry someone with a Corvette, preferably a convertible, and then I could ride in the passenger seat, with my hair blowing in the wind, and everyone would be envious of me.

But, that never happened. So, I decided to learn to drive, thinking that if I were ever going to have my dream fulfilled to drive the greatest car in the world, I had to be courageous and get behind the wheel. Of course, the first time I drove on the highway, I hyperventilated and passed out while driving at 60 miles per hour.

When I regained consciousness, the very frightened driving instructor said, “Some people are meant to be passengers, and you are one of them!” It was a harsh judgment, but I wasn’t responsible for him having me drive on the highway just three days after starting to learn to drive, or for the driver of the eighteen-wheeler who blew his air horn and flashed his bright lights at me, just because I almost ran him off the road.

I did finally get a chance to sit in one, and guess what? I am less than five feet tall, so,  my legs are not long enough to reach the pedals comfortably, especially if I want to be laid back. Even if I could manage to pull the seat up all the way, I would not be able to see over the long hood of the car, and people would wonder if there was a driver in there somewhere! It was not pretty by any stretch of the imagination. But, maybe I could find some adjustable equipment that could help!

Recently, Douglas and I visited the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Kentucky. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor, as there were so many to see, and I did not know where to start. I was like a kid in a candy store, so excited that Douglas feared for my heart! I loved learning the history of the car, and there were Corvettes from every decade past and the newest Corvette. You could not sit in them, but they would take your picture in a vintage one, but I passed on that deal.

There was also a very sad part of the museum, and it was the place where a sinkhole had opened and destroyed a few vintage cars. I could have cried seeing those lovely cars all busted up, some could not be salvaged. But seeing the wrecked cars was good for me!

Looking at those wrecked cars headed for the salvage yard reminded me that it is just a car! Like all things man-made, they break, rust, and eventually end up as scrap metal. Today, I am more interested in things eternal and lasting. Matthew 6:19-20 states, “Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.” 

I finally overcame my dream for a Corvette, and settled on liking my Ford Escape, particularly because as a small SUV, the seats can be adjusted high enough for me to see the street, something my fellow drivers surely appreciate. I am a little heavy-footed at time, when I am pretending that she is a Bugatti or a Maserati and I am speeding around Monte Carlo. Yep, I am still a dreamer.

 

Fandango prompt is Dreamer. Ragtag prompt is Salvage. Daily Addiction prompt is Responsible.

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