51 years

       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.

My Favorite Car

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