Warm Up the Car, Baby!It’s Cold Outside!

When I was 16, and it was winter, my Dad would go out to the garage every single morning and start my car for me to warm it up before I got in it.

Every single morning.

I don’t remember getting into a cold car once.

I can still smell the gas, the oil, the heat, and hear the put-put-put of the car waiting for me to get in.

We had a 1974 orange VW Bug that my parents gave all six of us kids when we turned 16. It was passed down from kid to kid, and I was number 5 out of 6 kids, so I didn’t get it until I turned 16 in 1985, and at that point, it had been through four teenagers.

When it got to me, my Dad told me I could have it painted any color I wanted. I chose my favorite color, bubble gum pink.

(It’s STILL the color that makes my heart sing.)

He laughed, shook his head, and placed the order. He put in a new stereo and added racing stripes with the words “Special Edition” written in cursive on the side and gave it to me on my birthday with a big ribbon around it.

In a VW Bug, the heat is an orange lever on the right hand side of the seat that you pull up to release heat and push down to stop the heat. So basically, in a 1974 Bug, your feet stay really warm.

So, this morning I woke up to a sunny gorgeous winter morning, but at 11 degrees, it was “colder than a well-digger’s ass” as my Dad used to say.

I yanked myself out of my warm puffy covers and croaked the words from Margaret Walker’s poem to myself, “Ours is a struggle from a too-warm bed”.

Yes it is, Margaret, yes it is.

I put on my warm fluffy slippers and headed downstairs in a stupor to turn the car on and warm it up for the kids. I pushed all the buttons for the seat warmers and rushed back inside, stiff as a popsicle, thinking “Dad! It’s cold outside! I need you to come start my car for me!”

But then I looked at my fuzzy feet, and the steam rising from my car engine, and I realized, I don’t need him to start my car for me, because I can do it myself now.

When it’s cold outside, I know how to keep myself warm and how to keep the kids warm, because he showed me.

He never said anything, he just went about his quiet everyday actions.

So, when I carry on his loving actions without thinking too much, it feels like maybe part of him is here with me.

But I still miss him.