“Sometimes, the poorest man
Leaves his child the richest inheritance.”
Ruth E. Renkel
The hotel room telephone rang out loudly about 2 AM
It was the call that would bring me such agony and pain
“Your father is dying. He won’t last the day.”
My wife sobbed as she whispered, “Get home right away.”
I jumped in my car and drove out through the night
The wind and the rain perilously mocking my plight
I had taken a job on the South Dakota plains
A thousand miles from home – so utterly insane
As I cursed my bad luck, my eyes filled with wet tears
My father had suffered a stroke in his much later years
He had been a very proud and a very strong man
Now his feeble body was more than he could stand
It had been so painful watching Dad’s will to live dying
We all knew in our hearts that he soon would stop trying
Why had I left home? What a damned fool I had been
I prayed that my father would wait, and forgive me this sin
I must have been racing 90 miles an hour that dark dreadful night
Through the rain and the tears that hindered my mind and my sight
My body was numb and my heart and soul were depressed
I was driving on like a maniac, much too tired and stressed
Truck drivers speak of the legend of the ‘Highway Black Dog’
When they’ve driven on all night, through the rain, sleet, or fog
They say as their weary eyes begin to close, that black dog appears
And they suddenly wake up - its premonition of death they now fear
I never saw the Black Dog as I roared onward that dreadful night
But I saw something else, that filled my heart and soul with delight
There, above the slick, dark, highway in front of my car
Suddenly, bright heavenly sent starlight, both near and far
Then, unbelievably, a huge grey stallion appeared out of nowhere
I swerved, skid, jumped out of my car, and now, wide-eyed I stared
This eerie grey horse looked right at me, and then it seemed to smile
Before it soon galloped off into the night with both serenity and style
As I watched it departing, my cell phone began ringing
I already knew the sad news this call would be bringing
“Your father just died,” my wife sobbed on the phone
“I know, Sweetie. And he’s already on his way home.”
As I got back in my car, and I drove on through the now brilliant light
I knew my Dad had forgiven me, and that everything would be all right
I believe that his spirit animal had graciously visited me on his way to his new home
And even today I can still picture his soul very happily galloping off to God’s throne
Happy Father’s Day, Dad;
I Miss You, And I Always Will
©2008, Mr. Ed
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Blessings to you Always,
Christine
Newfie Hugs, Rose
Sandie Angel :o)
This is truly outstanding...may there always be peace in everything you do...this is such a blessing.
Allen
Regis
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Peace,
Dan
My brother-in-law Jim had died in September of 1996, and he was like the big brother I never had. But my son and I had packed up 2 truckloads of his stuff, to move him on campus at Life Chiropractic College in Marietta, Georgia and we had to leave. It took 13 hours going down, and after unpacking and carrying everything up 3 flights of stairs that night, we were exhausted and didn't get to sleep until way past midnight that Friday evening.
In the morning, Tom brought me a cup of coffee and some doughnuts from a nearby store. Although I wanted to leave early in the morning because the funeral was that day, my body was spent, and we had both over-slept. It was difficult leaving him, especially with all the work that needed to be done, but I had to - I just had to! After a tight loving bear-hug I was on the road, just before noon. I was driving my nephew Jim's Ford pick-up, and trying to be very careful with it, especially since his Dad was being buried today, and I couldn't be there!
Somewhere around North Carolina they found me, maybe an hour before dusk. Two small dark green imports that must have had Radar detectors. As I followed them, like locking on the tail of a Semi that was High-Balling to make good time, I figured out their method. As they sped through the night on 95 North, whenever the lead car had detected radar, a quick pump on the brake warned the second car, and both slowed down - so did I.
About every hour, they took turns leading, and I stayed right on them, sometimes BURYING the needle on the dash, which only showed a maximum of 85. Once I had figured out their system, I regarded them as my "ANGELS" that were getting me back to my Family and my Jim. To be sure, I had missed the entire funeral, and I cried while driving along at that feverish pace, knowing that it was a physical impossibility, even before starting out on this excursion, so my heart was heavy.
But, I pulled into my sister's driveway at Nine pm - I had finished that entire gruelling trip in NINE HOURS FLAT! The wake was still going on, my surprised family was still there, and the beer was still COLD! Many, many of them were consumed that night, as we toasted my former Brother, and all were amazed by my story of my "ANGELS."
About two weeks later, the phonecall from my son came - he HATED it, and needed help to move back home. The second round trip was done with a lot less tension, and at a much slower speed, I might add. But I shall never ever forget that night of the guiding "ANGELS!" Like your Dad's Grey Horse, they had brought me home safely!
Peace, Dear Friend, God's Peace ... Tom.
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :( >tears! <
With God's help, we'll get through the pain together.
Georg
Fee
"This eerie grey horse looked right at me, and then it seemed to smile
Before it soon galloped off into the night with both serenity and
style" Of course men never cry - but these lines are where you caught me.
Superb poem, Ed!
Ted