If you were still here.I would remind you of the hot, heavy and humid June day when you were finally born-fighting the forceps that yanked you, almost against your will from the womb.You loved these sweltering days-you were born to thrive above 90 degrees, I believe. You were a heat up the grill and ice down the beer kind of guy; call everyone up and go camping at the lake kind of man. My son. My first born with almost a twin-like hold on me…Oh, I miss you. Yes, I know you have been gone already fifteen years. Yes, I have moved on-it’s just I drag your smiling spirit along for the ride. There are so many things, I would like to sit on the deck and discuss with you. The world as it is now, which is nothing like the world you left behind. Politics-I imaging we might bump heads on that one; the concept of Face Book and Instagram. I checked the freezer for Elgin sausage and fat chicken legs; I will barbecue inside because I never liked the weather this time of year. I did hear it might rain, too. I might make a chocolate cake and you would eat it all and then rub your full stomach and SMILE. I guess that is what I miss the most, my son, your smile; how the smile started in your eyes before making its way down to your mouth. That is how I remember you, how I always see you in my mind’s eye. I hope where you are there is a lake with a great place to swim, and cook for your friends and family; where the weather is to your liking and there’s a smooth spot to pitch your tent. Happy birthday, Steve.
was a 1967 candy apple red, Pontiac GTO…
likely the most fun I ever had
behind the wheel of a car!
She had 4 on the floor, power and was loud
And made to go fast
So I did…
Her speedometer was broken
But the tachometer worked. Her engine cued me
when it was time to shift gears.
In two months’ time, I managed to earn
2 speeding tickets. “No speedometer was no excuse” in
Charleston, South Carolina in 1969.
I had to go to work to pay the fines.
She burned almost as much oil as she did gas
on her trip home to Texas & her engine blew
the day after we traded her in
on a brand new Malibu Classic.
It made me sad seeing her that way:
pushed off the highway, in a culvert.
But the teenager who bought her
likely had the best fun he ever had behind the wheel of a car,
for the few hours he owned her…
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of seeing and hearing
one in action…same color, same style. The driver, a
man about my age. I smiled, when we stopped at the light
& gave him the peace sign.( We did that a lot back in those days…)
He smiled back and revved the old girl up. As we drove down the road,
I dropped back a few paces, respectfully,
to admire a classic, drive away into the sunset.
© Nancilynn Saylor
Photo taken from my car today in Austin, Texas