My bedroom door swings open, “Jessie, get ya ass out of bed and get ready for school”. I can hear my mom coming down the hall “Larry! Stop she has a friend in there”, it’s Amber. My dad: “well she has to go to school too”. Mom: “Larry! It’s Saturday you fool!” Dad had just gotten in from working all night. He shut the door, went to shower and to bed.

I can still hear the sound he would make when he cleared his throat. Sometimes when I’m next to someone who welds, I secretly smell them. Yes I know it’s weird but it smells like my daddy. When I see someone with a khaki pearl snap and welding cap, I smile a little bigger. I used to detest the smell of coffee, now I can’t live without it. I thought his music was terrible, I hated how he rode with the windows down and his left hand hanging out. Guess who rides with her windows down and a hand out now listening to Sting.

It would be nearing bed time on a school night, it didn’t matter, if dad needed you to come hold the flash light, you did it. It always seemed to be me. I’m the oldest. I gave that man hell, he dealt with my smart mouth, I complained probably the first 10 minutes until he’d tell me to shut up. Some how he always found a way to peak my interest. My daddy wanted a boy so bad, but the closest he got was Libby. What I wouldn’t give to crawl up into the hood of a car with him right now. How I wish he’d come bother me to pump the breaks or ask me to make him a pot of coffee.

My parents and I shared the same bus driver growing up, Ole Dennis. (Small town Starks, LA) He drove that bus like a bat out of hell and he didn’t brake in the curbs. You couldn’t eat, drink, talk or even breath on his bus. I loved the days Ms. Phillips would sub. She let us sit wherever we wanted too. Well one day being the Jessica that I am, I decided to “show off”. Dennis told me he’d be at my house later to talk to my daddy. I thought he was bluffing, he wasn’t. He went home parked that bus and drove that lime green S-10 right to my house. My daddy didn’t whip me though. He got his belt and hit the bed. With a big grin he said “shhh, act like you’re crying”. So I smiled back and I did. He did that a lot.

I know I mentioned my dad being a welder. He also worked on everything. If it was broke, he could fix it. I watched him put everything together. He was one of the guys that could just do it all. I snuck out of study hall one day to go to shop class. I thought I’d just hang out in there and not have to do any work but my friends Dylan and Eric just had to tell Mr. Carley I was in there. Mr. Carley knew my dad so guess who got put to work, ME. I actually didn’t mind it. I ran nearly a perfect bead on some scrap metal. That day I brought it home to show my dad. He started up the welding machine that evening and we sat in the shop just welding random things.

There were so many good things about him. I hang on to the image of him laying in bed with his favorite pillow, the ugliest brown pillow case, some glasses he must have gotten from my grandma back in the 70’s and a Tom Clancy novel. It’s so hard for me to imagine him in all of those ways, knowing that a fatal dose of meth ended his life. He was so strong, but so weak. He told me all the time how proud he was of me. I feel like he was preparing me, I know he was. I would have loved to fight harder for him, I wish I could have given him some of my strength but I’m so glad he gave me the best qualities of himself.

Being out on my own, I find myself in times were I wish my daddy were still around. Like the time I had to change out a battery cable or when my coolant was low in my new car. Some mornings I come outside with my cup of coffee and I imagine what it would be like having him as a roommate. I’d love to say “Larry, get in there and make me a pot of coffee”. He’d cuss me and we’d both just smile I’m sure. He loved us girls and my momma so much.

I always hang onto the good, even when I shouldn’t. I want to leave people better then I found them. At my age, I care more about your experience, your stories, your life. People have so much to say, you just have to take the time to listen. Sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.