My 16th birthday: A day I had always dreamt of. I finally got to drive! For me, it was all the more sweet because my dad was giving me his car!
And it wasn’t just any car: It was a 1977 Corvette.
My parents had been divorced for 10 years. When my mom and I moved to Florida from South Carolina, I only visited my dad during holidays. So the fact that he was driving it across two states to deliver it to me was even more special.
There weren’t many high-schoolers driving Corvettes up and down the streets of St. Pete, Florida. I’m sure people called me spoiled behind my back. Looking back on it, I may have been. Now I know that getting a car -- especially a 'Vette!-- at 16 isn't the norm.
But I never saw it as anything more than a way to get around. Since it was 1989 and the car was 11 years old, I complained more than I was grateful. I had the typical teenage attitude: Why can’t I have a car similar to what some of my friends were getting? One with working air conditioning and a backseat? I needed more room to pile in more people.
Fast forward 20 years. My 5-year-old son is in the back seat of my huge SUV. I made up for not having a backseat…now I have three rows!
As we drive along, I hear “Corvette, Corvette!” Every time he sees one, he yells it out. His favorite car, without any knowledge of his mommy’s Corvette history. Just hearing him and the joy he has saying it melts my heart every time.
How proud his Grandpa is of him! And now I realize that old Corvette means more to me than I could have ever imagined.