The Mega Cab

Long before Austin was old enough to drive, he would climb behind the wheel and drive it around the yard, up and down the driveway, or just sit in it listening to music. To him, it wasn't just Dad's truck. It was the truck.

When he finally got his learner's permit, there wasn't any question what vehicle he wanted to drive first.

The Mega Cab.

When his senior prom came around, that was the truck he wanted to take.

Over the years Austin would constantly tell Lee, "One day I'm going to have that truck."

Lee's answer was always the same.

"No way. I love that truck."

As the years went by, the Mega Cab started showing its age. Like so many Dodges, the clear coat slowly disappeared, and the odometer kept creeping closer to 200,000 miles.

In 2022, Lee finally decided it was time for something newer and bought another Dodge.

After eleven years, the Mega Cab was mostly retired. It only came out when we needed to double haul. One of them would pull the camper while I hauled the Jeep or the four-wheelers behind the new truck.

Then, on Lee's way home from Busco, the old Hemi finally gave up.

Austin was heartbroken.

Before anyone else, he was already tearing the engine apart. Then he and Lee spent their time together putting another motor in it.

The old truck was back.

The summer of 2025  Austin called me at work absolutely excited because he had been approved for a newer Dodge truck just like his dad's.

I immediately called Lee.

We were both worried.

The payment was huge, and I was afraid he'd bury himself in debt before he even got started in life.

Then Lee said something I never expected to hear.

"I think I should just give him the Mega Cab."

If you know Lee, then you know how big that was.

He doesn't get rid of vehicles.

He'll let them rust into the ground while talking about what he's going to do with them someday before he'll let one go.

I honestly thought Austin would turn it down.

The truck looked rough.

The clear coat was almost completely gone.

He could have had a newer truck.

Instead...

He jumped at the chance.

I don't think I've ever seen him so excited over a vehicle, and that's saying something because Austin had owned, traded, bought, and sold more trucks, Jeeps, and SUVs than anyone I've ever known.

He immediately went to work.

Cleaning.

Buffing.

Waxing.

New headlights.

New speakers.

A new radio.

Tinted windows.

New wheels and tires.

Little by little, that old truck came back to life.

Lee would laugh and tell him he was taking it back because it looked too good.

After all those years...

Austin had finally gotten the truck he'd always wanted.

Thanksgiving weekend, I wanted to go camping and ride at Uwharrie, but I hated towing our camper with my Jeep. Austin didn't even hesitate. "I'll pull it."

He towed it down for us and told us he'd come back Sunday to take it home.

As soon as we got into the woods, our friend Brad rolled his Jeep.  Austin parked the truck, unhooked the camper, climbed into our Jeep, and went to help.

I remember he had on nice clothes.

I'm pretty sure he had other plans that evening.

None of that mattered.

If someone needed help...

Austin showed up.

Saturday night he did what Austin always seemed to do.

He showed up unexpectedly.

The three of us sat around the camper talking for hours.

We talked about future trips we wanted to take.

Old trips we'd already been on.

Christmas.

Building trucks.

Building Jeeps.

Life.

I had no idea those conversations would never happen.

I didn't know that would be my last weekend sitting across the table from my son.

If I had...

I would have memorized every word.

Sunday morning, Austin showed up right on time.

That alone should have been enough to tell us something was different because we  expected we'd be waiting on him for a couple of hours.

He hooked up the camper.

Towed it home.

And that was my last Sunday with my son alive.

Now, when I look at that old Mega Cab...

I don't just see a truck.

I see my little boy pretending to drive.

My son headed to prom.

My baby finally getting the truck he'd dreamed about for years.

I see greasy hands replacing an engine beside his dad.

I see all the weekends we spent together.

I see the last place he was ever alive.

Sometimes I climb into the driver's seat, close my eyes, and just sit there. Because if there is anywhere in this world that feels like Austin...  It's that truck.

And somewhere deep inside me, there is still a mother who believes that if he were going to show up anywhere... It would be for his mom... and his Truck.

So...sometimes...I just sit in his truck and wait for him.