Ford Ranger ’94

D’s Truck.

November 12, 2018

Do you know what I noticed the other day? The light on the speedometer right above 45 mph is dimming. Coming home from the protest to protect Mueller, to remind anyone who would listen that no one is above the law, the light in the speedometer is dimming. “Oh no,” I thought, and gently patted the dashboard. D’s truck. 1994 black Ford Ranger…24 years old. My son is 24. I don’t want D’s truck to stop. Ever. It was my brother’s. The “Biter End” pin from the Gaslamp bar in San Diego is right where you left it, on the visor.

I walk through the world because I love it.

I walk through the world because I love it.

Mary Oliver.

That’s what I read on a wall as I walked by thinking of you. I think you loved it. The world. And it broke your heart. And it breaks mine.

-Dayle Ohlau, Santa Sabina Center

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There is in all things

an invisible fecundity,

a dimmed light,

a meek namelessness,

a hidden wholeness.

-Thomas Merton