Time, Money, and the Car I Love.
The year was 1988; I was 19 and bought my first Triumph Spitfire. I spent hot days and cold nights rebuilding my Spit. I put lots of time, money, and love into that car. But when life kicked in, four years later along came the love of my life, who would soon become my beautiful wife. My beloved Spit was not getting the love it needed anymore. A cold, lonely garage was no home for an amazing car like mine. My Spit sat in that cold garage for months at a time, needing more TLC than I could give. Soon, after thinking long and hard, I had to make the heart-breaking decision to let it go. I can still remember the painful day of driving it over to its new owner. It was hard to let go, but at least I knew it was getting the care it needed.
Twenty wonderful years later, I had beautiful wife and four lovely kids. And along with time, my Spitfire days had been resurrected. My 15 year old daughter was in need of a car. For months on end we searched the internet and used car magazines to find the right car. Our search finally ended when we came across a 1979 Spitfire, deep burgundy red with a hard and soft top. My daughter fell in love. She asked me if she could get it and I could not for the life of me tell her no. We drove for a painstaking three hours one way to test drive it. And the story begins all over. $3,700 later, I drove it home.
For the last few months my daughter and I have been spending out nights in the garage pulling apart the car piece by piece, fixing make-shift repairs former owners pieced together. Like her older sister, a proud owner of a 1977 VW Beetle, she will be one of those girls who makes boys cry because she knows more about her car than they do about theirs. I am pleased to find that she knows her Spit inside and out, forwards and backwards. It’s now May 2012 and summer is here in Colorado, and we are close to being road ready. Her Spit will need mass amounts of TLC over the next year. She is willing to work hard and pour her money back into her Spit to restore it like a classic car should be. It makes me a proud father to know that she is as happy with her Spit as I was with mine. Oh and of course her Spit’s name is Tilly… I guess it’s a girl thing.