Some memories never fade.
They just crystallize and sparkle in our memories.
I love music.
And I grew up on a farm.
Put those together and what do you get?
Yup.
My favorite memories of all time consist of me and my Dad driving around in that old Ford pickup of his at 80 miles an hour down a country road and singing at the top of our voices.
Imagine a ten year old kid hanging out the window singing at the top of his voice while a smiling giant drives away like a shot!
I fell in to a burning Ring of Fire
I went down, down, down.
But the flames went higher…”
Then…
“Welcome to the Hotel California..
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face…”
And…
“Sweet Home, Alabama
I’m comin’ home to you.”
Even –
“We all live in a Yellow Submarine!
A Yellow Submarine!
A Yellow Submarine!”
“Sing it out, Micheal John!”, my Dad would shout.
Elvis led to Johnny Cash to Merle Haggard to Warren Zevon. Even Elton John!
It always brings a smile to my face thinking about those Autumn nights driving like a bat out of hell and singing as loud as we could – with my Dad, this HUGE smile on his face and his eyes a twinkling!
I imagined us leaving some sparkling trail like a comet streaking through space…….
But time passes…
(Sigh)
As some of you may know, we have had to recently place my father in a memory facility. It was one of the most difficult and guilt-ridden decisions of my life.
Over the last few years, his recollection has faded. His gait started to waiver and the 6’4” near giant had become an old man who depended on a walker.
Those sparkling eyes had started to fade and the light became intermittent. He spent most of his time in a chair watching golf tournaments.
One of the things the care center suggests is that you talk to your loved one about good memories and show them pictures. So, I brought my laptop and flipped through pictures of Dad and my stepmother at college graduation, holidays, cookouts – you name it.
And every so often, I would see a little sparkle but then it would fade quickly. Again and again I saw it but it ran off.
“Is golf on?” he would ask just before he called me by my brother’s name.
Last weekend, I took him out shoe shopping. His first job after the Army was in an old shoe factory in Columbus, Ohio. He told me stories about the factory while we shopped but then he stopped and faded.
Dad had asked me to stop in a Tim Horton’s and grab a dozen donuts but we got stuck in the drive-through.
So, I started telling stories. And the spark came up again.
“Hey, Dad, remember when Mom planted pot out behind the barn?” That got the spark and a shrug.
“What was the name of the old dog we used to have? You remember that old furry mutt?” He looked at me and looked away.
I was getting down so I started to hum.
My father’s face turned to me.
Why, not?
“I fell into a burning ring of fire…” He smiled a bit.
“I went down, down, down but the flames went higher.” He started to sing but turned away.
Try another-
“You gotta know when to hold ‘em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run…”
OR
“I’m stuck in Folsom Prison
As time keeps dragging on…”
I saw his fingers start to tap then he turned away.
Then, a light came on in my head.
“Awooooooooooooo!
Werewolves of London!
Awooooooooooooo!”
Yeah!
He turned back and the light was there and his smile grew!
“Micheal John – “And his hair was perfect!”
The transformation was amazing! A door opened!
And he sang!
“Awoooooooooooooooooooooo!
Werewolves of London!”
Now, imagine that each and every one one of you is sitting in the cab of a beat up old Ford pickup truck.
Darkness has fallen and the windows are open. The wind is blowing a thousand miles an hour…
The music is blaring and you are SOARING through the night leaving a blazing trail behind you!
Now, look to your left…
Do you know who that smiling giant driving and singing is?
“Awoooooooooooooooooooooo!
Werewolves of London!”
THAT’S MY DAD!!!!!
“Awoooooooooooooooooooo! “
YEAH!
Tales From An Old Ford 