As I’m writing this poem, it is early May, and just a week or so past what would have been dad’s 68th birthday. He has been gone for ten years now, and I still have dreams that he is just out on the road somewhere, and we just lost track of time. Beyond my dreams, I do still see my dad from time to time, or at least the resemblance of him. Dad often wore overalls just like Uncle Jesse from Dukes of Hazzard, so when I see a big, bearded man with bib overalls, I see the image of my dad. Further, when I overhear some conversations at a café or truck stop between drivers, I will often hear the same stories dad used to tell, albeit, in someone else’s contorted version. I just chuckle inside and think, “That’s my dad.” As I grow older, I find my dad showing up most often in my reflection in the mirror or in the sound of my own voice. And I certainly hear his words repeated to me every time I leap out of the truck or off the back of the trailer, saying, “You ain’t gonna be young forever! You better quit jumping out like that!” Here comes June, folks! Father’s Day is upon us. Let your old man know you love him and that you think about him. Heck, even if he’s already gone to be with the Lord, it doesn’t hurt to let him know, even still.
I SEE YOU, DAD!
By Trevor Hardwick
I guess it was the other day,
Rollin’ through some sleepy little town.
I’d seen Ol’ Glory flyin’,
As I listened to my diesel gearing down.
These little towns remind me,
How you’d stop and nap away the afternoon.
And check out your reflection,
In the storefronts while chasin’ down the moon.
Up there on the mountain pass,
I saw you hangin’ iron in the snow.
As bitter as it looked, I wondered,
Where did all the good times ever go?
Maybe I’m just dreaming…
But I swear I see you every now and then.
Maybe it’s my own subconscious,
Longing just to see you once again.
Like sitting in a truck stop,
Listenin’ to the tales the drivers tell.
Or walking past the fuel pumps,
When your memory is triggered by the smell.
I’ll get out on the highway…
And roll the windows down, and there you’ll be.
As a pack of Harleys rattle by,
With all that long hair flyin’ in the breeze.
Disappearing up ahead…
In vapors from the heat upon the road.
You’re here, and then you’re gone.
I’m left with just the stories that you told.
But I still see you…
Every time I think that you’re not here.
I catch a little glimpse of you,
The moment that I look into a mirror.
The weathered lines upon your face,
Have now begun to replicate on mine.
The gravel in my voice sounds like,
A trip back to a better place and time.
Maybe you still see me too…
I doubt it, but it’s nice to think about.
When other people see me,
They say I look like you, without a doubt.
I’m headin’ for the house again.
I wanted you to know, I’m doing fine.
And let you know, you’re on my mind,
And I see you on the road from time to time.
I’ll catch you on the road again.
Reminiscing good times that we had.
And even though you’re not here now,
I hope you know how much I love you, dad.
