Curly was my grandfather and the namesake for the car.

That was his nickname, and the car was his most treasured possession: parked in the garage, always half-tinkered-with, and always ready for any excuse to take a drive.

I grew up building memories with the car right alongside my Pop Pop. I’d run out to the garage to call him in for dinner. I rode beside him in parade after parade, watching him grin as we rolled slowly down the route with everyone looking on. He was a veteran who took pride in his family, and I got the best seat in the house for it.

When the car came to me, keeping his name was the least I could do. These days Curly turns up at weddings, milestone birthdays and first-dance photos, and now I get to watch someone else grin.

Carrying on my Pop Pop’s legacy, one slow drive at a time, making memories for other families the way he made them for ours.

Always,

Megan