A SAD DAY
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We pulled along side of him, my dad honked and waved – we all waved. He gave us a grim scowl and sped up a bit, so my dad pulled in behind him. My mom and dad quickly discussed the situation, “I don’t think he can see us”? she said. My dad waited for traffic to clear on the small two-lane farm road.
We couldn’t see anything except the thin worn pavement with faded line striping surrounded by miles and miles of cotton fields. My dad quickly pulled along side the old primer grey Volkswagen bus again. I never understood why he’d drive a hippy van like that. After all, he was a cowboy, well he wore a cowboy hat sometimes… At least until it blew out the back of his old car on an Orange county freeway while I was trying it on… He was the only man that my dad would have let talk to me the way he did… I guess he wasn’t really a cowboy, it just sounds better than hillbilly. Either way, none of us knew him too well.
My dad started around him again, honked, waved, my mom rolled the window down in hopes of him seeing us. The old guy, hunched over his big steering wheel, scowled his Native American face and furrowed his brow under his still thick black head of hair, but he didn’t wave or say a word.
My dad slowed for the sporadic oncoming traffic and pulled back in behind the old VW bus. “His eyes are going”, my mom observed. The four of us in the backseat, well me for sure, were thinking, “He’s old”! – “Of course he can’t see”! My dad was quiet as we continued to pursue the old guy; it’s not like he was going to out run us in that old piece of junk.
The old bus began to swerve even worse than before. My mom spoke up again, “Be careful Harl – he’s probably scared”! My dad replied in surprising anger, yet with confidence, “He’s not scared”! I was the last to figure out what my dad knew instinctively…
In the middle of nowhere, a stop sign brought the old van to a stop. My dad pulled into the dirt trying to get the old guy to pull over. The old guy looked at us, gave us one more angry look and sputtered off down the old farm field road.
Being the youngest in the crowded back seat, I didn’t have the years to put the whole thing together and words escaped me before thought was given… a tendency I still struggle with today… I quickly glanced at my big brothers who were uncharacteristically quiet, with embarrassed smiles on the faces they were hiding.
The mystery finally came to me, “He’s drunk”! I shouted laughing, more proud of myself that I’d figured something out. My laughter quickly dropped out of me… There are times in life a kid will learn a valuable lesson quickly without any physical pain, those are usually the lessons that accompany great pain on the inside… The same pain I saw in my dad’s eyes…
After seeing the look in my dad’s eyes and felt the “look” from my mom and understood the words in her eyes, I looked back to my dad. He was hurt, but he was angry. I’m thankful my dad didn’t follow in his dad’s footsteps…
I gave it a great deal of thought on the two plus hour drive back home and also concluded…
That wasn’t the first time my grandpa had broken my dad’s heart…it was a sad day…
Sunday, July 22, 2012 @ 7:40 pm
That was good. Your writing keeps getting more and more insightful. Thanks for sharing.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 7:03 am
Thank you my friend. It’s good to hear from you! You’ll be one of the few people reading that actually knew me in those very early years… That’s a blessing for me.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 12:01 am
In every family alcohol has left it wreakage on someone. So glad Floyd your father chose not to do that to you and your siblings. Great memory my brother, thanks for sharing.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 7:04 am
Thanks Betty. I was blessed for sure.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 1:38 am
So glad your father chose to break the cycle Floyd. He passed that on to you as well. So much heart break is passed down and disappointment is rampant. Sure makes this father, even though his girls are grown and gone, want to be careful.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 7:05 am
I hear you Bill. This post has made me stop to rethink my life with my kids as well.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 6:12 am
My grandfather was an alcoholic, so I know those looks well. I think he lived in a constant state of “scowl”. I am glad to say that there is only one of my dad’s siblings that chose to drink like that after all they went through growing up, and thankfully it’s not my dad.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 7:06 am
What an example our parents left us. I just need to be a little more like them in my resolve.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 6:34 am
Powerful story, sad, but powerful. Once again I mavel how the Father uses such lessons to point us to truth and the right way to live. Thanks brother for letting us peek inside your life…we are richer because of it.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 7:07 am
Thanks for the kind words Jay. I appreciate your life and sharing, it makes it easier for others and it is a blessing to share.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 1:34 pm
So much we can learn from others- so many mistakes we could avoid if we learned from others. But sometimes we have to learn them first hand.
Thank you for sharing this. I know it will speak to many. Most of us are touched by someone we love drinking. Alcohol has devastating affects on so many lives.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 5:10 pm
Thanks TC. For me it was a also a chance to see the reality of life for my dad and that life wasn’t perfect. My parents continued to shelter me for a good time longer, but God uses certain things to make a point in our lives.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 3:51 pm
Oh, Floyd…you captivated me from the beginning, not having a clue that your family was related. You drew me in – so well written. Awesome piece with good food for thought. I love how you ended the story about your dad’s broken heart.
Beautiful!
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 5:13 pm
Thanks Diane. It was a real eye opener for me as a kid. Although somewhat sheltered, I think growing up with real life issues and not being overly sheltered may have made our generation a little stronger than the ones we raised…
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 5:27 pm
Life is a two way street, we hope to protect our chldren and keep them from those things that would break our heart, and then we do something sort of stupid and embarrase them and break their heart! You discovered that day, that we all are not always perfect. Your dad was wise to only give you a “look.” That was enough.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 5:46 pm
I did learn a great deal about life that day Hazel. The reality that life wasn’t easy for my dad was just the beginning of reality. He came a long way from where he started. Thanks Hazel.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 5:28 pm
Oh yes, thanks for sharing this post at “Tell Me a story.”
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 5:43 pm
It’s always my pleasure! Thanks Hazel.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 6:23 pm
Oh. Sad is right. My first husband was caught in the snare of alcoholism, died a horrible death with DTs and all. Yes, how true your blog’s title is: “There but for the grace of God go I.” So glad your parents were able to be free from this snare. Thank you for a moving story.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 6:33 pm
I’m sorry to hear about your first husband. I guess all of us have a weakness that could destroy us if we let it. Thanks for sharing and the input Sylvia, glad you stopped by.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 6:53 pm
Oh wow, Floyd. What a sad story. Told from the perspective of an innocent kid. I felt like I was in the vehicle with you guys.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 9:12 pm
It was sad, but my dad and mom turned it into a happy ending for all of us… Thanks Jennifer.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 9:09 pm
Heavy sigh, Floyd. I understand the situation, but it sure broke my heart, on both sides of the “road”.
Blessings.
Monday, July 23, 2012 @ 9:14 pm
Thanks Joanne. I can hear the wisdom in your voice and It’s appreciated. This life isn’t perfect, but God is and there are lessons to be learned, I just need to pay a little closer attention.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 7:25 am
You did a wonderful job telling this story. The bleakness of the situation was lightened by the spark of light in the back seat. Good job.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 5:30 pm
Thank you Mary. I may not have been the quickest of kids.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 3:04 pm
I’ve got a sister struggling with that problem right now. It’s hard to watch. Thanks for sharing.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 5:35 pm
It is hard to watch. Glad your sister has you…
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 3:36 pm
I feel for that little boy in the backseat but how he grew up to be such a great story teller because Jesus set the family free. Your dad was a courageous man not to go down that awful path that destroys families. Thanks for sharing this powerful story.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 5:48 pm
Thanks, I appreciate it. My dad was a man who truly ran the good race. Even the unbelievers couldn’t find fault with him, but he would have been the first to tell you otherwise… Humility. I’m still pursuing it.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 4:22 pm
Reading this I’m not sure I have words. So sad yet so very powerful. I do love how reflective your thoughts are here. Beautifully written.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 5:49 pm
Thanks Amy. Your words are kind and encouraging.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 9:23 pm
That is extremely sad, but hopeful that your dad made different choices. What an amazing opportunity we have to live differently than other generations. We have the power to live in Christ’s love and strength. Thanks Floyd.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 @ 9:58 pm
Thanks Jason. My dad made sure he was the opposite. He was strong in most ways and ran the good race. I’m blessed and proud.
Saturday, July 28, 2012 @ 9:55 am
Touching story, Floyd. I’m so glad you had such a good guy for a father. I could just feel his pain–and the embarrassment of your grandfather that would cause him to evade his son, and the loss of innocence as you realized what you’d said. And the broken hearts of all in the car. Glad you have Christ!
Saturday, July 28, 2012 @ 2:04 pm
Thanks Voni, I’m glad and beyond to know the Truth! It’s tough growing up and learning about real life, however we learn it.