Our Old and Rusty Tricycle

Hello to everybody!
I hope you are all doing great!

When I first heard the @hiveph's announcement about the #byahero contest, I thought of this rusty, old tricycle.

I grew up in a rural area, where the primary mode of transportation is the tricycle. Since there isn't a regular bus or jeepney route, we prefer to ride a tricycle that is available whenever we need it.

My father purchased the trike in the picture above when I was seven years old. We've had it for 25 years! It was a family service that took us everywhere we needed to go rather than being utilized to transport passengers. It was also used to carry agricultural produce from our small farm, where we planted corn and vegetables.

In front of the driver, there's a faded initial of my father and mother and their nicknames.

We never got the chance to have it repainted as we were struggling financially and having the trike undergo maintenance was the least of our priorities.

In front of the sidecar there's a big drawing of corn, which means that they acquired it using the money they got from selling the corn produce they harvested on the farm.

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_{Throwback photo of my father and my youngest sister.}

This trike has been part of our life. It witnessed every family event. From simply sending and picking us up in school to birthdays, graduations, reunions, and excursions, sad and happy times, we had the trike with us.

It has been my parents' companion in providing for the family. I remember they used to leave the house at dawn to sell fruits and vegetables in the market and come back with a sack of rice and goodies from the supermarket. They did it every day to support and send us all to school.

When my father passed away last year, the trike was a constant reminder of him to us. The sound of the trike engine made us feel his presence and somehow eased our longing.

My mother made a difficult decision a few weeks ago that saddened all of us. I know it was also difficult for her, and we, her children, respected it. The trike was rusty and old; the engine was already failing; and it was piled up next to metal junk, so she decided to sell it.
It just holds so many memories that it's hard to let go.

Will you believe that my silly self even planned to look for the one who bought it and ask if I could take a selfie with the trike because I realized I don't have many pictures of it.

We got another trike to transport us from point A to point B. But I just miss the old one.

_{My husband was driving the tricycle, and my eldest son was the passenger.}

This challenge did not just transport me to my destination, but also transported me back to my past and origin.

_{My youngest in the new trike.}

As we embark on new adventures in the new trike, I want to keep and cherish the old one. This will take us places and, little by little, fill up the memory lane again.

We are off to more adventures!

I'm inviting my friends to join the contest initiated by @hiveph and @juanvegetarian! You still have until the 15th to submit your entries.
Check out the details here!