This isn’t just another story about the Jeep wave. There are enough of those out there and, really, most of them drill down to either nobody waves anymore, or nobody waves anymore because JK owners killed the wave, or people aren’t waving the right way.
Whatever.
There are plenty who do wave – I see it everyday – and there are some who don’t for one reason or another. Those reasons can be a story for another time because this piece, like I said, is different.
I’m not sure who wrote the thing as there was no byline. It appeared recently in the Lifestyle section of The Mountain Press, a six-day-a-week newspaper in Sevierville, TN., which is very close to where we’ll be this weekend for The Smoky Mountain Jeep Invasion event.
It’s about the author and his/her son. It’s about the Jeep wave.
And I’ll let the story tell the rest…..
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Have you ever been, or are you, a Jeep or Harley owner? If so, you know what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about the Jeep Wave - the wave Jeep drivers extend to one another in a similar spirit to the wave Harley riders give one another.
A writer said on his blog, "Owning a Jeep doesn't just open up the opportunity to traverse the path less traveled, you also gain a kinship among all Jeep owners. This camaraderie is on display every time you pass another person driving a Jeep in the form of a wave."
The Jeep Wave can consist of a raised hand waving, or two or four fingers extended upward from the steering wheel. While these are generally what describe the Jeep Wave, it may be modified, like having the top off and a one-handed wave above the windshield or outside the body tub.
But readers, this column isn't really about the Jeep Wave - and it is.
I needed the Jeep intro to brace myself, and it's also quite genuine.
I am recently the driver of a Jeep Wrangler, and I don't even own it yet. I want to though.
It belonged to my son: a very handsome, intelligent, kind and loving young man who was in the Air National Guard and in training in Florida.
He killed himself in April. With everything he had going for him, I learned too late he longed for love and was rejected. I didn't get a chance to help him through it. As close as we were, he didn't confide in me.
That pain, the feeling that I should have picked up on changes in him, that I should have called him more often coupled with the longing just to have him back...well, some days they overwhelm me.
His funeral was moving; first, with his arrival from Florida to the airport in Columbus, Ohio, and the military honors shown him there, and then the military salute at the funeral and all of the personnel that came and the words and thoughts people shared about him.
Donations were taken for the high school music program because he loved the band. They bought a drum set for a handicapped student and they're building an addition to their concession stand. It will be dedicated to him.
I returned to Tennessee and work after the funeral, but I've felt very alone - not because it's not wonderful here. I love my co-workers, I've made friends and I love the mountains.
But.
I know grief counseling suggests that I shouldn't make any major decisions for six months to a year. But.
I've also read that isolation isn't healthy.
In Ohio, my family is grieving and I have two other children there. And Ronnie had so many friends, many of them struggling with grief. One of his close friends is facing major surgery this month and another one is deployed to Qatar.
I want to comfort and support his friends, and I need support from them and my family. It feels right to be there.
Life is a journey and sometimes it's really difficult. For now, the Jeep and I will navigate (Ronnie was going to be a navigator) to Ohio and chart our next course.
One of Ronnie's friends who talked him into getting the Jeep asked me when I retrieved the Jeep if I had experienced the Jeep Wave. She had to explain it to me.
Driving back here with the Jeep the day I got it, I would have been oblivious to anything outside of my son's world and the sand from the Florida beaches that was on the floor and seats. But now I notice the waves; it's heartwarming actually. It makes me feel like I belong to something.
So now I'm sending you all a Jeep Wave because we'll hit the road soon...with a rubber duck on the console, and that's a story for another time.
