This was originally published in Black Hawk College's annual literary magazine - "Voices" in the spring of this year. I have been toggling back and forth on whether or not to share it here. I decided it would be therapeutic to share this with you all. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy remembering these Memories of My Awesome Dad.
Memories of My Awesome Dad
I recall the crackling embers
dancing like fireflies in the late August night.
Sipping my Aldi grape soda you’d say-
why don’t you throw another log on the fire?”
and we’d sit back
and eat our flame charred hot dogs
off of cattail sticks
while you lined up beer cans
on the railroad tie.
Nine o’clock would roll around
and we’d point out Mars hanging low in the sky...
that glowing orange globe
creeping across the Milky Way.
Hey, those were the days, weren’t they Dad?
We would talk for hours,
sometimes till the coyotes came home.
We’d just let our minds roam…
discussing the deep dark heavens
and all the mysteries held beneath them.
The colossal pyramids in ancient Egypt
with five thousand year old batteries
churning up in the sands,
theories on whether they were ever built by human hands,
we never quite thought so.
Easter Island and its giant stone heads,
Snakes formed from hillsides,
hidden from our eyes,
and only found in Time Life books.
Spontaneous Human Combustion
would be a horrific way to die.
UFOs in the sky,
and how old Bud Hoots must have missed his ride,
forever phoning home.
That strange man sold bicycles and built fires
fueled by purses and shoes
in his gravel drive.
We often wondered who those purses and shoes belonged to,
and what old Bud Hoots did with the bodies…
but we never really wanted to know.
I recall your laughter
after every joke you ever told.
I recall smelling the wet grass
mixed with ash,
and the musty odor of cows in the field.
Little did I know,
that time spent with you
I would want to steal
over and over again.
You were more than my Dad,
you were my friend,
and you helped build me.
I recall the crackling embers…
just like the sparkle in your eyes…
maybe it was pride
As I blasted those PBR beer cans
off that old rail road tie
with your double barrel twelve gauge
that was bigger than I.
It bruised my shoulder and laid me flat on my ass,
and you laughed until you cried.
Late summer nights spent by your side.
Sure wish we could
Just pack up your grey Ford pickup,
and go for one last ride.
Molly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw.