I was teary-eyed after reading “A pony tale,” an article written by Vernon Sarne published in the March 2009 issue of Top Gear Philippines. It was one of the most touching car articles I have ever read so far. Why? Sobrang naka-relate ako sa story.
One picture that struck a chord was that of Vernon’s father, Mr. Virgilio Sarne, sitting in front of the salesman who helped the Sarne family with their car purchase. The joy and excitement written all over Mr. Sarne’s face in that photo was very moving. I could just imagine the overwhelming happiness Mr. Virgilio felt at that moment for finally owning his first car—and a Ford Mustang at that! And the last paragraph of that article totally blew me away! A sucker for romance, I found it so sweet that the reason the old man bought the car was to fulfill his wife’s lifelong dream of owning a car.
The story made me remember my own father who had also never owned a car in his lifetime. I knew that one of every man’s biggest dreams is to drive his own fancy car, just like every other man in the neighborhood. While his friends and contemporaries were driving Toyotas, Fords, and Volkswagens during their heydays, my old man could only afford a second-hand owner-type Jeep which we, the children, grew up with for almost 20 years until he sold it in 2003. Although we had our first second-hand car in 2000 (which we also later sold in 2007), it was primarily driven by my brother, not my father.
Last year, when I let my father use my restored VW 1303S Beetle, he hesitated at first probably because he was thinking that it wasn’t his so he might have felt as an intruder. But the moment I assured him that I bought and have the car restored for him and mom’s use (I have to lie to lessen his anxieties), that’s the only time he relented and treated the pretty bug as his own. I decided to let go of my greatest love for a while if only to make my old man feel happy, proud, and comfortable.
Days after that, I could see the joy and pride in his eyes every time he drives the Beetle around the neighborhood. That, to me, is consolation enough for every dent and scratch that my car has suffered since my dad took the helm as its driver slash co-owner. Though it pains me sometimes to find my bug in a crappy state, I find solace in the thought that I could always “restore” the Beetle (again!) to its pristine condition once my father returns the key to me out of tiredness, maybe.
Like Mr. Virgilio Sarne, my father is also nearing 70. And like Vernon Sarne, seeing and helping my old man makes one of his dreams a reality is a fulfilled dream in itself.
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