A Classic Promise Kept for My Son

It’s a hard call to make. You think you’re doing the right thing for the monetary benefit of your family, but your gut is screaming something different at you while time is running out.

As many others, we’ve fallen on hard economic times, and a man was supposed to be coming to buy my Classic 1966 Chevy Nova. I couldn’t stand the overwhelming guilty nauseous feeling as I waited for 4:30 PM to approach.

Why? I never planned on selling the car, as it was a promise to be for my little boy when he’s old enough to have it.

I made him a promise, and now I was going to renege on my promise for the almighty dollar.

I didn’t know how I was going to be able to live with myself. I had no idea what I was going to tell my son when he walked into the garage the next day with huge eyes asking where his car went. Through tears, I would have to try to explain to him that I had to sell it because mommy needed the money. He would cry and want his car to come back. The guilt wasn’t ebbing, it was only getting worse with the thoughts of the sadness my son was about to endure.

Why should a car matter?

My son is about to be 3 years old. He’s already missing a man in the household. Not that this is an issue, but I don’t want to deprive him of not being able to have the stereotypical guy practices that all men, in my eyes, really should have when it comes to basic, or even advanced mechanical skills concerning cars.

How am I supposed to teach my son about basic car mechanics if I don’t have my classic car with a real engine to do that with?  What kind of mommy am I to sell the car I promised him he was going to inherit from me later in life?

What’s important to me will be important to him

I’m a classic Chevy junkie. I used to race Nova’s and Camaro’s when I was in my late teens in Fort Lauderdale when I wasn’t supposed to. Many times I would win. Boyfriends of mine would try to get me involved in the mechanics of how cars worked, what to do to get them to go faster. I was never really that interested in the mechanics of it, I just wanted to get in and drive them as fast as the car would possibly let me.

Seven years ago, my girlfriend bought me a 1972 Chevy Nova for my birthday. It was all original interior, motor, mileage, transmission, etc. The paint was the only thing that wasn’t original on this car. We yanked the 283 “straight six” engine ourselves with a cherry picker. We searched for a new engine for it and decided on spending $350 at the junkyard for a whole car – a 1973 Pontiac Omega, which came with the motor I wanted for my Nova.

The plan was to put an Olds 350 “Rocket Block” in the car, bore the heads out to .90 over, and install a high performance forged cam with a 383 Stroker Kit. This was all to make it fast.

So, we thought we knew what we were doing. At least we were learning to know something, and we were having fun trying to figure it out together. We learned a lot about cars as the time passed.  It was time well spent and really strengthened the bond between us. We talked about having a baby boy in the future. We smiled thinking of how much fun it would be to teach him about cars and get as involved in them as we were.

It fell by the wayside as other things came up and we kept trying to make ends meet. Four years after buying the car, we sold it to an old man who wanted to restore it for his “grandson” in the military.  We got screwed on the deal. I made a huge mistake and should have never sold the car, and I’m still kicking myself in the ass for it.

For two years, my girlfriend and I poured our hearts, blood, sweat, and tears into this car, and now it was gone.

I vowed never to do something so foolish again, and here I was sitting waiting for a man to come buy my ’66 Nova that I never planned on selling.  We had poured our hearts into this one too. Blood, sweat, and tears, again, into another car, a different bond created. Time, memories, cuts, and bruises. Was it again all for nothing? We have owned this Nova for six years together. It was for our son. What was I doing?

After agonizing for over twenty hours, I called the man and told him I couldn’t sell it, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

What’s next?

It’s going to sit here in my garage until I have the money to do something with it. It needs a lot of work, time, parts, and money invested to be what it’s supposed to be, but at least it’s still part of the family.

I’m one of those people that have a hard time with going back on my word after making a promise, especially one for my baby boy. When he was a few months old, I remember holding him in the garage one night next to the Nova. I showed him the car and though he didn’t have a clue what I was saying, I told him it was going to be for him one day when he was old enough to appreciate the classic that it was.

I promised him I would teach him everything I knew about cars and how to work on them. I told him he and I would work on it together, and he would learn from the ground up how to fix them, understand them, and appreciate their power without abusing it.

How can he be a man without a man around?

Growing up with two mommies isn’t going to deprive him of the things he would most likely had if he were to have a “daddy.”

I’ve already made a vow to incorporate “manly” things in his life so that he becomes a well rounded man as an adult. I feel I would be doing him an extreme injustice of something innate  if I didn’t.  This is something I have put a lot of thought into for many years. He is going to be a “real boy”, with real boy experiences as long as I can help it.

Though maybe ridiculous to some, it’s important to me for my son to be taught these typical “guy” things. Feminists, bring it on. I’m entitled to my beliefs, and I’m going to do it my way. For the sake of the feminists reading this article, I will go out on a limb to say his intellect will be androgynous in nature.

Even If he were a girl, I would still teach her everything I would teach my son. I feel it’s imperative to make kids well rounded, regardless of their gender.

I have many plans for my son as he grows up, and I don’t plan on cheating him out of the things guys are supposed to know, especially because he has an alternative family raising him. He needs to learn to be self sufficient and independent. I will never be able to go back on a promise I make my son, and I will try to never let him down.

He will learn to drive a boat, fish, camp, and work on cars. He will learn how to treat women correctly, and with respect. He will value education and sports. I will teach him how to cook, sew, clean, do laundry, shop, and handle money responsibly.

I guess that’s why Matthew is so lucky. He gets the best of both worlds, and two car crazy mommies, too.

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