9 Days

9 days…9 days and I’ll know whether or not I will finally graduate from college with my bachelors degree in English from Central College. In 9 days, I’ll be leaving behind some amazing friends that I have made, just from this year alone. I’m gonna miss you guys, I promise to come back and visit. In 9 days, my mother will be the only one in my family to be at the graduation ceremony watching my sister and I walk across the stage and watch us receive our diplomas. In 9 days, it’s going to be hard to deal with the fact that my father won’t be there, but he will have the best seat in the house sitting next to my sister and me. I hope I made you proud pops, I miss you every single day.

In 9 days, I will be putting an end to ever having to write another paper. I’ll be putting to end to never have to take another exam. I will, however, begin my journey as a writer. I know that seems ironic. Ya’ll are probably thinking, “Evan, you just said that you’ll never have to write another paper again, why would you want to continue writing?” Well, to answer that, imagine you have to read a book that is probably the hardest to read. There’s even a guidebook on how to read this book. For those of you reading, I’m referring to a book written by James Joyce, Ulysses, one of the hardest books I have ever read in my life, next to an anatomy textbook. Reading an anatomy textbook is like reading a picture book compared to this. Anyway, I have worked tirelessly on writing a 20 page paper about a topic over just one chapter of this book. Yet, I still want to continue writing. But, the difference between writing another paper and me wanting to continue writing, is that I don’t ever have to do any more critical analyzes in order to write.

What I will be doing is writing novels for the rest of my life. Or at least I hope that’s what I can do. In 9 days I can start that journey, in between working for a landscaping company and looking for another job where I can use my degree. Being a writer doesn’t pay the bills right away.

In 9 days, I hope to make my mother proud, because she’s the only one left for me. Well, my sister Briante and the rest of my family like my aunts and uncles, and cousins. But I didn’t go to college for them, I went to college to make my mother and father proud. I already received my associates degree in Science from Waubonsee Community College back in 2012. But, I can’t get a job with that degree. Sorry this is a shorter blog, but I just wanted to say that it’s looking like I’ll graduate in 9 days and that it has been one hell of a ride.


What If…

What if? We are always saying, “What if?” What if I had gotten that full-ride scholarship to college to play division 1 football at Ohio State University? What if my feet weren’t all messed up and I could have joined the military? What if I said this, would she have gone on a date with me? What if I said this, would she still be my girlfriend? What if I hadn’t drank last weekend, would I have done better on that paper and gotten all of my homework done? What if?

These are my what ifs. I loved the game of football. I loved strapping up everyday for practice and suiting up for games on Friday nights. I started playing when I was in 8th grade. My parents never forced me to do sports, but they always said, “If you sign up for a sport, you have to stick it out until the end of the season.” This was never an issue for me because I loved sports and I tried a lot of them. Football seemed to be my calling. I wasn’t exactly fast, strong or had very much endurance. But as I continued to practice every day for five years, I got faster, stronger and had more endurance. My football coach told me I had the potential to play division 1 football. That just pushed me to train harder and never give up. Until one day, I fumbled one snap and my coach took me out for the rest of the season. I tried the rest of the season to be able to just be put in during a game, but it only happened twice for only two plays. After that, I thought what if I hadn’t fumbled that snap. Would I have been playing football at Ohio State University? Would I have been on the National championship team when Ohio State won it back in 2015? Would I be getting ready for the draft? I will never know because my buddy Nick was offered that scholarship and he was my back-up before I fumbled that one snap. He turned it down because he wanted to go to school to be a mechanic. So what if?

I remember when I was about 12 years old; I told my dad I wanted to join the Marine Corps after I graduated from high school. My dad asked me why and I told him it was because I wanted to be just like him. He told me, “You know you don’t have to be just like me right bud?” Then I said, “I know dad, but I want to be just like my hero.” He didn’t say anything, he just teared up. When I finally got to high school, my school had military recruits come to talk to set up a booth to talk to us considering the military after graduation. I went to every single booth and talked to every branch of the military. My dad’s father was in the Navy and my dad and his brother Dale were both in the Marine Corps. I wanted to keep the military tradition going in my family so I wanted join either one, but the Air Force piqued my interest as well. I remember one night when I got a call from a Navy recruit and I told him that I had flat feet and other issues with my feet and I didn’t know if I could enlist. So the recruit asked me if he could speak with my mom or dad, so I handed my mom the phone because she knew my medical history. She talked with him for quite a long time. I remember overhearing my mom say, “I don’t know if I can look him in the eye and tell him that.” I knew right then and there that the recruit said that I wouldn’t be allowed to enlist in the Navy. After my mom hung up the phone, she had tears in her eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or sad tears. Knowing my mom they were probably a mixture of both because she was happy that I wasn’t able to enlist in the military. She didn’t want her baby boy getting shipped off to war and possibly get killed. Well mom, I could die in a car accident just as easily as getting killed at war. Dying for this country is more honorable than dying in a car accident by a drunk driver or someone simply not paying attention while they’re driving. So she turned to me and said, “Evan, the Navy won’t allow you to enlist.” I looked at her and said, “I’ll try to enlist in the Marine Corps.” This is when she broke down and cried and said, “You won’t be able to enlist in any branch of the military because of you feet.” Now it was my turn to break down and cry. I was sobbing I was crying so hard. I had been wanting to enlist in the military since I was 12 years old. That was a long time before my first foot surgery. That was a long time before I started playing football. Being in the military was what I had always dreamed of. I thought that it was my calling. After my mom and I dried up our tears she said, “We should have tried to find a better pediatrician that would have fixed your feet when you were really young. Then we might not have had this problem, keeping you from your dreams.”

I think back now, wondering, what if we found a pediatrician when I was younger, if they would have fixed my feet where I wouldn’t have had the surgeries that I’ve had. What if I hadn’t had those surgeries, would I have been able to enlist? The Navy recruit told my mother that I would have been able to enlist if I hadn’t had corrective surgery. But my foot doctor told me that if I didn’t have the surgery, I would be in a wheelchair by the time I’m 30 years old. So what if? What if I didn’t get that surgery, I was able to enlist in the military and something happened to me while I was deployed? Would I have been injured to the point where I lost a limb or two or all of them? Would I have sustained an injury that paralyzed me where I would be stuck to a wheelchair anyway? At least being put in a wheelchair defending this country would be worth it. Not because my doctor told me that it might be a possibility that I might wind up in a wheelchair if I didn’t have the surgeries that I have had. What if? What if I enlisted in the military and nothing happened to me anyway? What if? “God has a plan, and your plan wasn’t a part of His plan.” I remember my mom always saying that to me. I think deep down inside she was ecstatic that I wasn’t able to enlist in the military because she would be worried every waking moment of her life until I returned home. She just wouldn’t want me to return home in a box. My dad on the other hand was different. I know he would be afraid something would happen to me if I got deployed to war. But at the same time, he would have been proud to call me his son, not just because I was defending our country. But because I was following my dream in the most honorable way. I think he was more devastated than I was because he knew it was my dream to enlist. It was the only thing I knew I wanted to do with my life.

Now I’m just three short weeks away from graduating from Central College with my bachelor’s degree in English. Since being at Central I have made some life long friends. Had some ups and some downs, but I always got through them. The worst was when I got the call that my dad died. I wanted to drop out of school and stay home with my mom so she wouldn’t be alone and help her pay the bills. But she told me, “I will kill you if you drop out now when you’re so close to graduating. You have put way too much time and money and effort in you education to give up to help take care of me because dad died. You will be finished with school in a year and a half. You can finish out and make me, and more importantly you dad, proud.” But being this close to graduation, I still have some what ifs. What if my grades aren’t high enough to graduate? What will I do then? I don’t know what the future holds, so I’m just going to keep working hard the last three weeks. Hand in all my final assignments and hope and pray to God for the next three weeks that I can pull it off and have my degree in hand after all the time, money and effort I put into trying to get my bachelor’s degree.

So a few words of advice to those of you reading. Don’t fret on the what ifs. Think about working yourself to the bone to achieve your goals. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. Let that be your motivation to fuel you in your pursuit of your dreams. Think about what you want to happen, and work so hard that you’re exhausted to try and achieve your dream, and accept the outcome no matter what. Because you don’t want to look back on your life and still wonder…what if?

37 Days

37 Days…37 days from now, my sister and I will be graduating from Central College. 37 days from now, is supposed to be one of the happiest moments of my life so far. My mom is going to be here for the ceremony, maybe my aunt, cousin, uncle, maybe my best friend…but my dad won’t be here. 37 days from now, I don’t know if I’ll truly be happy on this day. The one person, the one reason I started this journey to get my bachelors degree in college won’t be here.

My dad always wanted to see me graduate from college. Every time my sister and I would go home for a break from school, he would always tell us how happy and proud of us he was. I always said back to him with a smart ass remark, “I don’t have my degree yet dad. Tell me you’re proud of me when I have it in hand.” Then he would grab me by the arm and pull me in for a hug and whisper in my ear, “I’m proud of you because you are my son.” I know he was proud of my sister too, even though I never really heard him tell her that, but I just know my dad, and he loved my sister very much.

I can’t even begin to think of how my mother is going to be feeling come graduation day. Well actually I do, my mother is always an emotional wreck when it comes to stuff like my sister and I graduating. She was an emotional wreck when I graduated high school, and she was the same way when my sister graduated from high school. Shit, she was an emotional wreck when Briante and I got our acceptance letters into Central College. But, I can imagine that it’s going to be worse on this graduation day, because she knew how much my dad really wanted to see my sister and I walk across the stage to get our bachelors degrees.

I really miss you dad. I wish you could be here to see Briante and I both graduate. But I know you’ll have the best seat in the house, sitting right next to mom in spirit, watching the two of us walk across that stage in 37 days.

Friday Night Lights

Friday Night Lights. To some that is just the title of a movie or TV series. To those who have played football or still play football, it’s moments that we dream of. High school football is a defining moment in a young football player’s life. Those Friday nights could lead to earning full ride scholarships to play football in college. Playing on Saturday nights, dreaming of winning the National Championship. Dreaming of playing on Sunday nights, dreaming of winning the Super Bowl. To me, it was everything.

I didn’t start playing football until I was in 8th grade. A lot of my classmates had been playing since they were five years old. I had a lot of work to catch up. My coaches loved it when I came to talk to them about joining the team because I would have been the biggest lineman in the conference. When I signed up, I was just under six foot tall, and weighed in at 215 pounds.

When I got home that afternoon from talking with the coaches, I walked in the house and asked my parents if I could play football. My mom always said, “Is this something you really want to do? You know our rule about signing up for a sport, you start the season, you finish the season. No quitting in the middle of a season.” Looking back, I never really wanted to quit a sport in the middle of the season. I was always anxious for the next season once it had ended. I loved sports!

My dad had the happiest look on his face when I asked him and my mom if I could play. Now he could tell his one and only son about his football playing days. I had always seen my dad’s pictures of him playing football, but I never really did ask him about it much, he just said, “When I was in high school, we had 3-a-day practices, and I would go to work in between practices.” I didn’t think about that much, because in middle school we only had after school practices. I was still a little fit from wrestling and track just a few weeks before practices started for football, so I wasn’t exactly out of shape once I was able to practice.

It was the state rule that football players had to have 3 full practices without pads on before they could strap up their pads and have full contact. Now I had never really been hit before in my life, so I didn’t know what to expect. So on that first day I could practice at full contact. I fell in love with football. It got this feeling that’s hard to explain. I just fell in love with the sport. I struggled to remember the plays, but my coach mostly told me, “If you know the ball is going one way, push the guy across from you the opposite direction or get in his way. Our running backs will know what to do.”

Throughout my high school football career, I battled a lot of injuries, bullying from some of my teammates because I was injured all of the freshman season, where we were the first freshman in our school’s history to win a conference championship. My dad was right there along side of me as my #1 fan. Even though I didn’t get to play at all that season due to having to have bone removed from my foot, he was still at every single practice and game. My sophomore year was different. The head freshman football coach asked me to play down so I could get some playing time before I moved onto playing varsity my junior and senior years. I told him I would have to think about it and I talked to my dad and he said I should do it. So I told my coach that I would go ahead and play for the freshman team. He said to me, “Alright Bagg, I’m starting you at left tackle and nose guard. You’ll be playing both ways. Do you think you can handle that?” I told my coach, “You put us through conditioning drills for a reason coach. So yes I will be ready. I just hope I don’t let you down.”

So it’s game day, my first game that I was able to play in since I started high school football. We decided to kick the ball to start the half. So I had to go in on defense as the nose guard. The first play I busted through the line and sacked the quarterback. It was an exhilarating feeling. My first ever play on defense in my football career and I sacked the quarterback  for a loss of five yards. After that, they kept double teaming me and I had difficulty getting through the line. I didn’t sack the quarterback, but I got one of their running backs. My coach was so thrilled to see me play on defense, he took me out for a play or two so I could catch my breath so I could get in there on offense and block for our guys in the back field. First play on offense of my high school football career, I opened up a hole big enough you could fit a semi truck through it. Our running back was really fast, all he had to do was beat the opposing teams defensive backs and he was in for a touch down. My coach said that we’ll keep running that same play until it doesn’t work anymore. Well it worked for the whole game, but we still came up short and ended up tying the game. At the freshman level they wouldn’t let us go into over time so we had to settle for a tie.

My dad was at that game. When he picked me up from the locker room after we got back from the game he said, “You gave the team momentum in that game. You were unstoppable.” I just smiled and I said, “I was only doing what coached asked me to do.” My dad just smiled and laughed and said, “You played one hell of a game. I’m so proud of you.” That was the first time I heard my dad say he was proud of me. The second time was when I graduated from high school. And the last time I can remember hearing him tell me he was proud of me was when I got accepted into Central College. I just wish he was alive long enough to say it to my sister and I when she and I both graduate on May 14th, 2016. I know he’s going to have the best seat in the house, sitting right next to my sister and I.

To kind of fast forward to high school. I had struggled to perform well because I had surgery on both of my feet at the end of wrestling season, which, at the time, I had no idea I was going to have several surgeries to fix a birth defect in my feet. But none-the-less, I came back each season to play football. I had several concussions, twisted ankles, busted my shoulder and I always had bruises. But, by the time of the summer before my senior season, my head coach saw potential in me, he said, “Bagg, this is your year. What college do you want to go to?” I thought he was joking, so I said, “Ohio State coach!” He got a giggle and said, “Alright, I’ll give their scouts a call.” Well, sure as shit he did. But they didn’t give me an offer, they gave my back up an offer, because in one game I fumbled one snap where it was the quarterbacks fault because he called the play from the shotgun and I couldn’t feel his hands up under me, so I snapped it like we were in the shotgun. Right then and there, I knew my football career was going to end in our final game of my senior season. I would never put on those pads again and never again step under those lights on a Friday night.

You see, my dad was always there to watch me play football. He loved the game because it brought him back to some memories of when he watched football as a kid and when he played for the Indians, just like I did, when he was in high school. My senior year he was very disappointed in the coaching staff because I had made it to every single off season practice without being told I had to, I got up and went on my own. I was at every single practice during the season. Up until I got sick and had to miss three days of school, doctors orders. That season, I only wanted one thing out of it. To work my hardest to help my teammates try to get to the playoffs for a chance at going to state and winning the title. But most of all, I wanted to win the Iron Man award. It was the smallest of all the trophies I had ever received, but it meant the most. Because it was a personal achievement award, something that I could win for myself and not the team.

One day after school, Coach Avery called me into his office after the awards ceremony that had taken place a day or so before. He said, “Bagg, I’m really sorry you didn’t get the recognition you deserved during awards night to receive this trophy. But, I understand this means a lot to you.” I looked Coach Avery in the eye and said, “I didn’t care about the recognition coach, I just really worked hard to receive one. The recognition doesn’t mean anything to me.” He looked at me with confusion and asked me, “What do you mean?” I looked at the trophy and then back at him and said, “This is the only trophy I worked really hard for. Putting in extra practice at home, taking snaps with my dad after 2-a-days. I have a lot of bowling trophies where I won first place, wrestling medals that I took first place in a tournament or two. But this trophy means the most because not only was I making a commitment to myself to be hear day in and day out to help the team, I was doing something for myself. I know that might sound selfish, but I never do anything for myself. I always do for others and don’t expect any recognition for it.” He got teared up after I said that, walked around his desk and gave me a hug and said, “Bagg, I never had a player with as much heart as you to ever play for me. I’m going to miss coaching you.”

To some, Friday Night Lights is just a phrase you say before a Friday night game, or a title of a TV show or movie. To others, it’s what we dream of. Being able to go out under those lights on a Friday night and show the community what we’ve practiced all summer for, to prove that we are worthy of winning the state championship. To show the community that we can perform well in college as football players. To try to get to the big game. To play the game we love so much, until we no longer can. Clear Eyes. Full Hearts. Can’t Lose!!!

It Angers Me

Alright everyone, I’m changing pace a bit. I’m gonna write a free verse poem. I hope you all like it.

It angers me that you once loved me. It angers me that you once cared. It angers me that you fell out of love with me so quickly. It angers me that I gave you my heart. You treated it like it was a piece of garbage. Something you could just throw away. It angers me that you found someone to be happy with. Anytime I think I’m happy with someone, they turn on me and act like I don’t even exist.

I fucking hate you. Why did you do this to me? How could you treat me the way you did? Why did you have to lie to me? I gave you everything I had. You ripped out my heart. Now there’s a hole where it used to be. I’ve been trying to fill that hole with alcohol, drugs, meaningless sex and food. Slowly killing myself without intentionally trying to. You fucked me up and my life is out of control.

You fucked me up so bad that I can’t even let myself love again. I don’t feel like I’m even worthy of being loved by anyone else. I’m petrified to let my guard down like I did with you. I’ve grown cynical. I’ve grown full of hate. I don’t know why I even care anymore. It’s been six years or more. You fucked me up, and it angers me. 

I saw you last Thanksgiving with him, and I thought I would die right then. It angered me to see you as happy as you once were with me, with him. It angers me that I tried to stay friends with you and you ignored me. When you broke off the engagement with him, you came crawling back to me. That was four years after you ended things with me. What made you think I would take you back after what you did to me? 

I think about you everyday. It’s what drives me to be a better person. It drives me to show you what you’re missing out on. When I’m a famous author, you’ll wish you never left me. But God had a different plan for me. He put you in my life for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, but He did it to guide me in the right direction. I’m not going to let you control my life anymore. I tried to drink you away, but you’re not worth the whiskey. You’re not worth the hangovers. You’re not worth anything to me anymore. You are but a mere memory that I’m trying to kill inside my head. I’m exhausted from trying to get rid of your memory. I’m trying to get rid of the happy times we had together, because it makes me wish I had you back.

I’m done with you like you were done with me. I don’t want to think about you anymore. I wonder if you even think of me. You probably don’t because I meant nothing to you. I didn’t stop thinking about you because you were my world. I’m done trying. It angers me that I can’t get rid of you. The thought of you still haunts me. It angers me that I once mattered. Now I’m probably just some distant memory.

To My Late Father

Dear Dad, I never got a chance to thank you. I never did thank you for all the sacrifices you made for mom, Briante and I. I never did thank you for the tireless hours you spent at work before you got sick. I never did thank you for the house you helped mom provided for Briante and I. I never did thank you for telling me stories while I was growing up; those stories gave me a look into your life before you met mom. I am very grateful that you met mom, because by the sounds of it, you were going no where fast and already had one foot in the grave. But you snapped out of your old ways, married mom and helped raise us kids. For that I am forever grateful.

Dad, I’ve been having troubles with writing again. Other than writing papers for school, I haven’t written for myself in almost 4 months. I’ve been having trouble writing my book because it’s the chapter about your funeral. It was supposed to be a made up chapter, but when you died, it became a reality. Writing reality is probably the toughest thing I’ve had to do. Maybe writing reality would be different if the reality wasn’t so sad.

Mom and Briante are doing well; I think. I try not to talk to them about you too much because I know it makes them sad. It makes me sad too, but I try to remember the good times we had while you were here with us; I don’t think about the day you died, even though that day still haunts my dreams. I’m trying my best to be the man you raised me up to be. I’m doing my best to take care of mom and Briante. Most importantly I’m doing my best to graduate. Trying my best to make you proud; even though I know that you would be proud of me no matter what happens in May.

I’m trying to provide comic relief to mom and Briante when they’re feeling down. Sometimes I don’t know when the appropriate time is. But I feel like it is what helps keep them going.

I just feel like I’m lost without you dad. I have no clue what I am doing right now. I have no clue what I’m going to do after graduation. Right now my plan is to move home and work for Best Kutters again until I can find something with insurance. I know you’re probably wondering, but no I don’t have a girlfriend yet. There is this girl I got my eye on, but it seems like a lost cause, because we both graduate in May and I move home and she’s going off to grad school. My gut tells me to forget about it, but my heart tells me to give it a shot. I don’t really want to ask mom for advice about it, because this is something I would come to you for. I have some pretty great friends right now. Steven, Jamie, Jared, Steven and Travis have been the guys I hang out with a lot.

I really miss you pops. I know you’re watching over us, keeping us safe, and you got the best seat in the house for every big event in our lives. Rest easy dad, save me a spot and put in a good word to the big guy.

“Those we love don’t go away, they walk beside us every day…unseen, unheard, but always near, still loved, still missed and very dear.” -Anonymous


Riding Shotgun

It’s coming close to being exactly a year since my dad passed away. I’ve been listening to this song by LoCash, “Best Seat.” In the lyrics it says, “You were shotgun when you taught me how to drive your truck on the edge of town.” I have listened to this song probably hundreds of times in the last few months. Up until about yesterday, I didn’t realize that those lyrics affected me directly. Because my dad was riding shotgun when he taught me how to drive on the outside of town. Here’s my story in memory of my father.

So, every year for as long as I can remember, my family and I had to go to Minnesota for my dad’s yearly check-ups at Mayo Clinic. Luckily for us, my aunt and grandparents lived only 2 hours from Mayo Clinic, so we would stay at my aunts house. My aunt and grandparents lived in a very small town called Frost. To put it in perspective, the population there was 250 people. It was a very small town, you could do just about anything in Frost.

I remember one time while we were up there. I was about 15 or 16 years old. I didn’t have my driver’s permit yet. My mom and dad had a day off from having to go to Mayo Clinic for tests and stuff. I don’t remember exactly how the conversations went exactly, but I remember my dad saying something like, “Evan, grab the keys, we’re gonna go for a ride.” So, I grabbed the keys to the truck. To my surprise, my dad was already ready to go. You see, it took my dad awhile to get ready to go anywhere because of his disease slowed him down. We always had to tell him about 10 minutes or so before we were going to leave for somewhere, to get ready to go.

By the time I got the keys, he was already heading out toward the truck. To make things a little easier for my dad, I would make sure the driver’s seat was set for him and he had everything he needed. When I got to the truck he was at the passenger door. I thought he was just catching his breath, so I asked, “Dad, everything alright?” He just said, “I’m waiting for you to unlock my door.” At this point I was confused so I said, “Dad, your door is unlocked. You’re driving aren’t you?” He looked over at me and said, “No, you’re driving.” Now mind you, I barely drove a go-cart or anything where you had to push down a gas pedal and steer.

So, I hopped in the driver seat, he rode shotgun. But before we could drive off he told me a few things. “Always wear your seat belt, always use your turn signal, adjust your mirrors, ease into breaking and don’t floor the accelerator.” Frost was a very small town, it only had 2 main roads and 4 side streets, the rest was gravel roads going out into the country. I’ll admit, I was very nervous. My dad loved this truck. It’s the very truck that I still drive to this day. It’s not in the greatest shape like it was back then, but it still runs.

I put my foot on the break to put the truck in drive. I slowly left of the break, and slowly accelerated. I was driving! It was a thrill of a drive. I swear I had a smile that was ear to ear. I wonder if my dad had as much joy in seeing me smile that big as I had driving for the first time. He had me take the truck around the block a few times, having me take a right and a left so I could get a feel for turning in both directions. Then it was out to the country roads.

“Time to pick up a little speed,” I heard my dad say. I looked at him and said, “What do you mean?” He pointed toward the country roads and said, “Back roads.” So, I started heading down towards the back roads and he said, “Now Evan, gravel roads aren’t like paved roads, the tires might slip and pull you to one side or the other. So take it slow and stay at about 35 miles an hour and I’ll tell you to go faster if it’s safe.” Remember, I never drove before, so I listened to exactly everything my dad told me. We just drove and drove until he told me to turn onto a back road that was paved so that I would get the feel for driving faster. It was an exhilarating feeling. It was when I fell in love with driving.

“Time to take it home bud,” my dad said. When we got back to my aunt’s house, I got out of the truck and gave my dad a big hug and said, “Thanks for teaching me how to drive dad.” He held me tight and said, “Not a problem bud. I never had my dad to teach me to drive, so I thought I would teach you.”

When I finally got my license, my dad said to me, “You get the truck if I die before you move out.” Or something like that. My mom will argue with me tooth and nail about him saying that. But I do remember my dad saying something of the sort to me almost 10 years ago. I will cherish that first time I ever drove that truck, anytime I drive it. I miss you dad. Thanks for teaching me how to drive.

From the front steps of the pearly gates
I swear sometimes I can hear you say
“Come on angels gather round
That’s my boy now ain’t you proud”
And I point up into the sky
It don’t matter day or night
I know somewhere just above the clouds
My old man is watching me right now
Form the best seat in the house.