I'll never forget the day I first laid my eyes upon you. It was a warm spring day in the rural countryside of Rensselaer County. I had been searching desperately for the perfect one. The one that would stick by my side for years, even decades to come. My previous had only lasted about 6 months and before that just a little over a year. It seemed that I just kept finding duds, but then I found you.

There you were, lying on the lawn soaking up the spring sun. God, you were so beautiful. The red that you wore reflected off perfectly showing your strong, keen physique. From front to back, top to bottom, you were just absolutely stunning. I never believed in love in first sight, until I met you. I took you home that night and we began a journey that I thought would never end.

We did everything together. All the adventures, trips and jobs we went on, boy I don't think I'll ever forget. From Canton, NY to Hampton Beach. From New York City to Buffalo. From Rockaway Beach to Lake Erie. There wasn't a place we didn't cover. I can't decide what place I enjoyed more because being with you was all that mattered.

The best part of that journey too was the fact that we hardly ever had any issues. You were so strong and durable. Nothing could get past you and you never stood down from a challenge. You took the bull by the horns and ripped it's head off. You were one tough son of a bitch.

Everyone knew who we were; Friends, family, the fire department, work, and even our neighbors who said we were too loud. Whenever we were out in public, we were greeted by the masses; most likely because we lived in a small town, but nevertheless we had a name for ourselves.

On top of your strong and powerful nature. Reliability was true to your name. Whenever needed, you were definitely counted on and never let anyone down. From Christmas tree hunting, to bonfires, to just having that something to pass out drunk with. You were my rock.

About a year ago I noticed a change in you.

You didn't wake up gracefully every morning like you use to. You seemed to hesitate to get moving. As time went on you struggled to move along at a normal pace and were consuming more liquids than usual. To the point of exhaustion you would suddenly stop moving and hesitate to get back up, I took notice and started to worry. You were a bit older than most but you were well taken care of so I couldn't understand.

The long journeys you and I would go on started to become impossible. The trips were too much for you and we often had to take breaks so you could get the energy to move again. Day by day you were getting worse. You would roar in pain as we struggled to get from place to place. I would gaze upon you wondering if there was anything I could do but there wasn't. All I could do is ride it out with you and hope you would just last a little longer. The signs were becoming inevitable. All I could do is wait.

But then it happened.

On a hot summer night we were coming home from a night of studying for my EMT Practical when you let a loud cough. I asked if you were okay and you started sputtering. This foul smell overcame me and I knew. I knew this was the end. I didn't want to believe it. I went through the 5 stages of grief in a matter of seconds, all though it seemed like a lifetime.

It wasn't good. It was the end.

I tiptoed you home gently so I wouldn't do more damage. A tear rolled down my eye. I put you under the apple tree, our favorite spot to hangout in the shade. Again once we came to a rest at the house this terrible smell lurked the air, a smell that only Satan himself would stench upon such a cruel and uncertain world.

I stayed there with you for hours mourning the loss of you, you were the greatest thing to come into my life. We had done so much together and boy it had been a crazy ride. I always said we would last forever but like all good things, they must come to an end. I will never forget you. You were the greatest pickup truck I ever had the honor of owning. You will always fly high in my heart.

Rest in Peace Darrell, my 1993 Dodge Dakota.