Cadillac for College

This was a letter to my father. He is the author of the best memories I have to share.

Mom & Dad,

Every night when I lay awake in bed with insomnia I think of the hilarious childhood experiences I had growing up. I always mean to write them down, but I'm too lazy to bring a laptop to bed, so now is a better time than ever.

Yesterday, Trent and I were listening to a song that sung a lot about Cadillacs. Trent asked me what was so special about a Cadillac. I told him he needs to ask his Grandpa Ellis about them, but that I knew they are a well made car that purrs like a cat and rides like the comfiest recliner and most people who can afford them are older.

But then I recalled my first experience with a Cadillac. This may not be the entire story, but it is what I remember . . . and proceeded to tell Trent and he laughed and laughed.

It was a few days before my freshman year of college in Idaho. I had spent all week packing up my belongings and there were boxes and suitcases ready to go for the three state trip to Idaho. Mom knew there was a lot to haul, so she arranged to rent a minivan for the trip since there was five of us traveling with everyone's luggage, my boxes, and a load of boxes Greg left at Grandma Hovey's house in Utah. Mom was wise and planned ahead for our convenience and comfort. But she didn't plan ahead for the curve ball Dad threw at us the morning of our departure.

Dad had two assignments to prepare for the trip:  check all the locks and windows in the house a dozen times a piece to make sure our fortress was protected and to pick up the rental van. We anxiously waited for Dad to return from the rental agency, excited to claim our spots in the new-to-us vehicle. I was in my room finishing up last minute packing when all the sudden I heard  a high pitched gasp come from Mom's mouth, followed by my Dad's name, "LEN" with the sound she only uses when she is shocked. I ran out to make sure she wasn't hurt when I saw with my own eyes what her squeal was about. Dad did not bring back a van. He brought back a Cadillac. A red, long, wide, huge Cadillac, with red leather seats and all the bells and whistles a nearly empty-nester could dream of.

"Len!" Mom exclaimed. "What happened?  We're they out of mini-vans?"

Dad sheepishly held his head down and mumbled, "No. I saw this Cadillac. I love this Cadillac. I sat in this beautiful car and the rental employee told me I could rent it for the same price as the mini-van. So I chose the Cadillac!"

I don't recall everything Mom said, but she was TICKED. So was I. How on earth were five adults and all the luggage going to fit in that car? Why did we rent a car anyway when the Cadillac was nearly the same size as our other sedan?  Dad and my brothers optimistically boasted how they could fit everything in this Cadillac with no problem. If it was necessary, they would have taken that Cadillac across the ocean and tried to convince us it was a boat.

We squeezed, and I must emphasize the word squeezed, inside that Cadillac. Each of us had a box or suitcase on our lap for the eleven hour drive to Utah. We couldn't open the trunk until we got there in fear the items would pop out like a lit firecracker. Dad was sure to put only his name on the rental agreement to drive the Caddy, so he was exempt from the discomfort the rest of us experienced.

When we arrived to Utah, we unloaded my brother Brian and exchanged him for Greg's boxes which filled up the entire back seat. Greg sat with his feet on boxes and an arm around boxes. I sat up front with my parents on the funky middle "seat" which felt like side saddle riding. Mom and I had our feet propped up on boxes and we were holding boxes in our lap as well. But Dad still had that grin on his face and exclaimed, "Isn't this great!"  You will be the only student to arrive to college in this kind of style and you will never forget this experience!"

Four hours later, we emerged from the car like a crab who outgrew his old shell, and I realized how right my father was. Yes, I was the only student to arrive in that kind of style. And yes, it is a experience I will never forget.

I love you Mom and Dad! -Jennie