He said son hold it still
Keep that beam shining straight
He’d have a 9/16ths in one hand
Working on that Chevrolet
It seemed like every Saturday
Soon as the sun went down
We’d be huddled underneath that hood
Tinkering around
And of all of the great memories I’ve had
The best ones are those nights just me and my dad
He’ll never how much he taught me
Out in that garage
And I guess the stuff that stuck
Was more about life than fixing cars
Cause to this day I still can’t make them run right
But I sure did learn a lot
Just holding the flashlight
He told me a lot of stories
About Grandpa and the war
While he was trying to show me
What a carburator’s for
I learned a couple cuss words
When he skinned his knuckles up
And I found out Momma was the only girl
He ever really loved
Then I asked him about women, he just laughed
Said if we stayed out here all year
We wouldn’t have time enough for that
He’ll never how much he taught me
Out in that garage
And I guess the stuff that stuck
Was more about life than fixing cars
Cause to this day I still can’t make them run right
But I sure did learn a lot
Just holding the flashlight
And to this day I still can’t make them run right
But deep inside I know that it’s alright
Cause I sure
Just holding the flashlight
Thanks Dad
In 4 hours we will be hitting the road to pick up mom because she is in El Paso. I wish you were going with us. I miss you, and I hope you miss us too. I hope in heaven they celebrate your birthday.
Happy Fathers day. We made chicken and carne asada on the grill we got you on your last fathers day here on earth with us. I love you and I hope your day was magical. I am thankful I didn’t cry.
I wish you were still here with us dad, but God only knows why he does the things he does.
With all my love,
-Stephanie
Its funny how in a year you can change so much. Who knew that a month and some days after taking this photo everything would change. We didn’t know while walking in Williams that you had something growing inside of you that would take away your life and change all of ours. I never knew that I would have to grow up and become a hard soul in order to be strong for you and the family. You never knew that after this picture, it would be the last time you would look healthy. And although your clothes, your shoes and your hair never changed, you did. Your body started to shut itself down and your eyes became tired. You grew tired of fighting this battle against yourself, and the medicine only made you all the more tired. The doctors were never your friends, the nurses were nice but treated everyone the same. You never knew you wouldn’t live to see your grandkids grow up. Its funny the things you never think about because it seems impossible for them to happen. But when it happens, it hits you like a ton of bricks and you can;t do anything but face it. I never knew I could miss someone this much, that some days I physically ache for their presence. Some nights I even think I hear you walking around the house, making your coffee, getting ready for work. Coughing, that distinct cough of yours that wasn’t dry but it wasn’t a phlegm cough either. I don’t know where you are, but what I know is this; I would give everything I owned just to have you here with me, with us. To hear you, and smell you and hug you and bug you. I would trade in everything to have that back. I miss you dad.
Its been a while since I have wrote and I am sorry. Its not like it matters anyways, I bet in heaven, or wherever you are, you are busy with the family you hadn’t seen in years. Maybe you guys are still celebrating the fact that Aunt Effie Mae finally joined the party.
I don’t know dad, sometimes it gets hard knowing you aren’t here. Knowing you are somewhere else living your new life with your family and you are happy and healthy and you are with your dad again. I hope you told him about us, about the grandkids he never got to meet.
I turned 21 this month. I didn’t get drunk, I got tipsy. I was tired, I’ve been working a lot. The more I work the more I numb myself and it means I am away from home more during the day so I don’t have to worry about sitting here and remembering and being sad.
I get sad a lot when I think about you because its hard, 18 months later, it is still so damn hard living without you. Knowing that I wont ever get to hear one of your quick smart ass responses to a stupid question, I wont get to smell that distinct scent of you. Its still hard dealing with it.
I want you to know dad that I’m dealing with this the best I can but everything reminds me of you.
Mary found me on facebook today and I just want to tear her apart. She got the Gray stubborness in her.
I don’t know where I am going or what I am doing anymore. I feel so detached from everything and I miss you.
I’m being a little bitch, I’m sorry dad.
<3,
Steph
a whole year since I last saw you, and even then it really doesn’t count because you were in your rented casket, just there like a prop in a bad play.