I STILL MISS HIM
“Do you think we might have enough money for me to buy an old pickup truck and a fishing boat?”
I still remember sitting at the kitchen table in the small four-room house I lived in with my parents on South 11th Street, Terre Haute, Ind. and hearing my dad ask that question to my mom. He was thinking about retiring.
This morning as I stood brushing my teeth, my wife looked over at me and said, “I’ve been awake since 5 a.m. I couldn’t sleep.” “What’s the problem?” I asked. “All I could do last night was move furniture around and think about making changes.” My wife is in the process of some household changes: carpet, hardwood floors in some new areas, bathroom changes, updating, painting, etc. “Bet you didn’t sleep much either, did you?” she asked me. “You probably laid there all night jumpin’ around, thinking about your drive today to Alabama and trading for that next Corvette.” Old Corvette, 1962-- guilty, I plead.
Much later that day as I was driving home from Alabama in that Corvette, I was thinking about our morning conversation, and it made me think about my dad. As my dad neared his retirement, all he wanted was “an old pickup truck and a fishing boat.” Sadly, he never got either one. Just a few weeks before he was to retire he got cancer; diagnosed in November and died the last day of January, 1975, at age 63. He never saw retirement and never got his “toys.” That’s really what they are, old cars and home updates, in a sense. They are toys we give ourselves.
I once sat in an audience where Chet Atkins was playing. I could sit all evening, and just listen to him. Before he played his closing song that evening he talked about the song’s meaning and remarked that it was one of the few biographical songs he has done. He went on to say, “It is one of the most difficult songs for me to do, not because of the playing of it; it’s the thinking about it.” With that he played.
When I was young
My dad would say
"C'mon son, let's go out and play"
Sometimes it seems like yesterday
And I'd climb up the closet shelf
When I was all by myself
Grab his hat and fix the brim
Pretending I was him
No matter, how hard I try
No matter, how many tears I cry
No matter, how many years go by
I still can't say goodbye
He always took care
Of Mom and me
We all cut down a Christmas tree
He always had some time for me
Wind blows through the trees
Street lights, they still shine bright
Most things are the same
But I miss my dad tonight
I walked by a Salvation Army store
Saw a hat like my daddy wore
Tried it on when I walked in
Still trying to be like him
No matter, how hard I try
No matter, how many years go by
No matter, how many tears I cry
I still can't say goodbye
Chet, I, we understand why the song is hard for you. It’s been thirty-seven years for me saying goodbye and it still doesn’t get much easier.
January 21, 2012
Keep on,
Larry Adamson