Getting Tires Made Me Cry

It caught me by surprise. I had just pulled out onto State Road 46 and was headed to Brown County Tire in my brand new (to me) 2003 Jeep Liberty. About a mile into the drive, I started crying.

This was not the car I was looking for. I was there for a different car, but it wasn’t a “fit.” I started looking at other cars and, as I talked with the salesman, I mentioned an interest in a manual transmission. That’s when he pointed to this little green compact SUV and said, “this is a 6-speed.” I didn't even notice this one before, and I don’t know what it was, but I was immediately drawn to it. When I sat down in the seat, I liked it. When I test drove it, I knew I would be going home in this zippy little ride.

It was different. It was cute. It was fun. It was a bargain. It needed tires.

For years, my daily drivers have been big SUVs. This was quite a change. Another big change was that I didn’t get to consult my dad, the mechanic, before I bought it. I’d never owned anything that Dad didn’t find for me or give me his blessing. But one thing he did for sure was instill in me the need for good tires. These tires were not. So I scheduled an appointment at BC Tire to get some new kicks for my new toy.

As I pulled onto 46, I was flooded with memories of Dad and the thousands of cars he’d worked on and hundreds of tires he had changed for people over the years. I was thinking about the hours he spent in a garage, putting new tires on cars, buying them a few more thousand miles of safe driving. I thought about these people he had served. I missed him. And I just wanted to talk to him.

I wanted to talk about the jeep and check to see if these were the kind of tires he would choose. But I couldn’t. And I cried. He was my dad. He was my friend. And I missed him. A LOT. I talked to him about every day, and I loved to just stop by to visit. I miss my friend, Dad. It had been over a year since I’d seen him and the emotions flooded back.

Fortunately, it was after hours. No one was there when I pulled in, so I didn’t have to explain that I was crying...because I was getting tires.

I sat there for a few minutes, gathered myself, and did the next best thing I could think to do. I called Dad’s brother, Uncle Jim. I just needed to hear his voice. Poor Jim. As soon as he said, “hello” I started crying all over again as I told him how I missed Dad and just really wanted to talk to him. In his gentle, loving way, Jim just started talking, and hearing his voice was just what I needed.

Those tires are a couple of weeks old now. They’re doing great. And I’m sure Dad would approve.

Do you ever just look at a set of tires and smile? I do. When I walk up to the little car I wasn’t looking for, I look at those tires that no one else will ever notice. Those tires that made me cry are pretty special. Now, every time I look at those tires, they make me smile.

Today, I hope you find something to spark a memory of someone special. Someone you miss. Someone connected but out of reach. Be aware. Cry like you’re getting tires. And smile.