Treading in the Steps of the Greats

"Good Night Dad"

Grandpa Ed and My Father Eddie Jr.

Looking back to my eighteenth year

sitting with gramps in the grandstand

He looked at me, said " listen son

life seldom goes as we planned"

"See your father out on the track

coming 'round in the post parade

You should be proud of him you know

for all the dues that he has paid"

"If you'd said fifteen years ago

that he was the cream of the crop

I'd beat you down, there on the ground

leaving your a*s on the blacktop"

"Not many get knocked down in life

then rise to the top of the hill

As life exacts a price you see

from those willing to pay that bill"

Years later we stood by his grave

my father, my brothers and I

Gramps hadn't shared this forgiveness

before he had to say goodbye

I passed that story to my dad

whose eyes said he understood

For as a man, it was my plan

to help ease his pain if I could

Then when my own father passed

I stood there holding his ashes

About to pour, across the floor

of the track that saw our clashes

In that one defining moment

I whispered a prayer to the Fates

"Please forgive the sins of my youth

"

treading in the steps of the Greats

Author's Note

When my father was young he gave my grandfather bloody fits. I know how he regretted it later. As he was so hard on me for fear that I too would take that road. He said to me "Son you scare me to death. Of all my children you are the one that keeps me up at night. I see myself in you and it scares me. Just because you are fearless doesn't mean you are immortal." I came to find he was right. I do not know what drives young men to temp the will of unkind fates. However I lived to tell the tales and my son now is doing the same to me. So there is justice. Last month he came home on a motorcycle to tell me he was tired of just existing and wanted to live a little. He wants to have adventures as I have had. God is paying me back for the sleepless nights I dealt my own father.
When my own father passed a year ago we poured his ashes across the race track where his life began and his race ended. Miss ya dad!

Reviews

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Brilliant writing and poignant backstory told in your Author’s Note. Such a raw and personal family chronicle...the volatile give and take from fathers to sons, relived...Perfection in form, flow, cadence, rhyme, imagery, allegory. Superb, nostalgic family picture. You are a wise man. Thank you so much for the excellent poetic invitation to share your life. Bravo!

[Tate Morgan]

Hi Annette thank you so much Nice to see you today

[Lyn Anderson]

If we are lucky, we have good people to guide us. And we pass on the best of them to the next generation.

[Tate Morgan]

Thank you Kl i have had a year to come to grips with my fathers loss. I find i learned more than i thought.

[andrew mitchell]

not my kinda music Tate lol. Yes a true reflection on growing up with the folks, when I look back I think hormones played a part in the teenage years, that defiance and rebelliousness but all settles with time. We are just fortunate to have understanding folks maybe they went through the same!:) Nice write as always.

[Tate Morgan]

Thanks Andrew Dont think i liked the music much either. Its been said if we live long enough we cant help but grow up

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A piece that hugs us, a most telling of tales that gives me hope in all futures, well done, good read.

[Tate Morgan]

Hi Thomas thank you friend. Whatever happens between us and our parents we eventually find those experiences become lessons by which we live our lives and treat others

[Tina Kline]

A wonderful poem. A great message in it. Very moving.
Well written too. Just a great piece of work all around.

[Tate Morgan]

Thank you Tina I often drift back to days i regreted But learned from

[Tina Kline]

You are most welcome.

[...]

Hello Tate :) I love how cradle a wisdom of having been into each and every work of your poetic artistry.
Always a pleasure to read your story, my friend

[Tate Morgan]

Thank you Lynn As per usual I awoke to the nexis of this write from a dream .In it I remembered the story and the convening years that replayed it over and over thorough my own life.