Wednesday, February 3, 2010


A year and a half after my husband passed we took a road trip to see friends and family in Texas. It is about a 20 hour drive. On our way home I stopped to get gas about three hours from home. My oldest was in a bad mood and I asked him to get out of the truck and get some air. He decided he needed something out of the back of the Jeep, so he opened the back lift door (I have no car lingo... whatever that back door that lifts up is called) and grabbed what he needed. I proceeded to chastise him that I didn't want him in the back - so he needed to close it. He grabbed a hold of the black tension rod type thingy and pulled on it to close the back. Instead of the door closing, he bent the black tension rod thingy! Now, I know this would be easier to envision if I was using proper terminology - but the point is the black rod, now that it was bent, was keeping the back door from closing! It was late on a Saturday night, I am far from civilization, there are no repair shops open or car dealerships (if they happened to even be anywhere close).

I stood there mad. Mad that my husband wasn't here to fix it because this would surely be no big deal. I examined the rod and how it was attached to the car. I needed a screwdriver (maybe). I went inside the gas station. Stood in line. When it was my turn I looked at the service attendant and explained I needed a screwdriver. The attendant stayed sitting on his little stool about four feet back behind the counter and informed me that he didn't sell screwdrivers. That is fine, perhaps you have one back there I could borrow? No. Could you tell me what is around here - is there someone I could call? I don't know. Listen, I am stranded - my son bent the bar on the back of my jeep and I can no longer close the door. I really need a screwdriver to see if I can get it off. He stared at me blankly. About this time a man had come in to pay for his gas and had heard my last comment. He had a screwdriver in his truck and offered that I could use it. I gratefully accepted.

With the screwdriver in hand I went to remove the bar from the truck. But - this was not a normal screw and my normal screwdriver was not going to do the job I quickly discovered. I stood there in ultimate frustration. Half praying that I would know what to do and half telling my husband to fix this for me. I just wanted to go home. As I stood there enveloped in my thoughts of pleading and frustration... SNAP. It fell off. I started laughing, quickly returned the screwdriver to its owner and got on the road.

I had a big smile on my face the whole way home. I could just envision my husband standing there saying "Just rip it off"... and when I didn't do it - he reached out and did it himself. That was EXACTLY how he would have fixed that problem. Miss you. Thank you!


  1. I love this story. If I were in your shoes this situation would occur multiple times a day, every day. When he's traveling and can't answer every menial question of mine I get so terribly annoyed. I'm glad Chris was there for you when you needed him.

  2. I love this story. I can't wait to hear Chris' version someday.