You were one of the women in Ben's life even before I was, but now the time has come to say our goodbyes.
You and I share the same birth year - 1982 - but I have to say, I'm wearing my age just a little better than you. I can't haul a bed full of gravel or wood like you can. Nor can I tank down the interstate at 70 mph. Neither am I a woman of metal. But your paint job is starting to rust a bit, you groan when we push you too hard, and you're simply not designed with a car seat in mind.
But if anyone's been there for some of our special moments, baby, that's you! Remember the first "unofficial" date you took Ben and me on? We drove you out to the Big Mo' drive-in, stretched out in your 7 foot bed, and pretended to watch The Dark Knight, which turned out to be a better movie for flirting than for anything else. You also witnessed our transition from "just friends" to dating, clearly signaled by my move from the passenger seat to the middle seat, right next to Ben. To this day, that middle seat is still my preference, even when other people poke fun at us for it. And you, my friend, were also the truck we drove away from our wedding in...honking brightly with each tap of the brake pedal.
Helga, we'll miss you but know how thankful we are for all you've meant to us.
Ben & Allison