Onomea?? This is my perspective. Mind you it still hurts.
GOING HOME
It's raining today in Georgia as we weave north bound on I-85 to Atlanta. Ben's supplied the fuel, some for me, some for the Star Cruiser, and some for the cargo bay, a refrigerated trailer hauling frozen chickens. I'd washed the cruiser that afternoon, so I knew it was going to rain. Not a heavy rain, still it would have to be done again before pulling into, “Shakey”. That's Los Angeles to you who do not know the trucker lingo.
After a bit of time we are west bound on I-20. After setting the autopilot for the long haul I turned down the volume on the radio. The chatter was getting on my nerves. Two pilots arguing or maybe just bragging, over who had the biggest, fastest, or best looking, cruiser. Who cares, we all have the same job to do, move the freight from where it is to wherever it is wanted or needed. With the volume turned down so just the “Smoky” reports filter in, I popped a tape in and the mellow sounds flow out. Some Jim Reeves, Marty Robbins, Sons of the Pioneers.
“What's that about the “coop”?”
“Closed this side, set up and spot checking in Alabama.”
“Well what did you expect?”
Time now for some Roger Whittiker. “Make the World Go Away” (Please take all the dumb idiots in four wheelers with it.) “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You”, The Most Beautiful Girl in The World”.
Just a little mist falling now, almost like it was that time before. How long ago? One year or not quite. What day? What day?
I have the same load in the cargo bay this trip as we did then, the only difference is, this time we are going to Ontario, CA not Denver, CO. That time we filled up at Ben's first then down to LaGrange. This time we loaded in LaGrange then north to Ben's.
I remember now, it was on the seventeenth when last I saw her, we parted on the eighteenth, I to Denver, she to Atlanta. “Catch the comic book up tomorrow”, I had said to myself, “we are going to see someone that we've dreamed about for so long.”
How long had it been? Well thirteen years since we were last together. A different time, a different place. How good it had been.
This time when I got into town, I called her on the phone, “Please, how about meeting me here? I'll be waiting in the back room, a table for two, in the corner, near the back door. I'm wearing a blue and white shirt. I'll buy you dinner?”
Now who is that I see? My goodness what a beautiful woman. It is one lucky fella who gets her to sit at his table. I sure wish it was going to be me. Oh my god, she let her hair grow, it is me.
“Come and sit down.”
God how I'd love to hug her. Thirteen years and still I loved her. It's fifteen now.
What's that song? Rewind. Start over.
In the twilight glow I see her,
Blue eyes crying in the rain
As we kissed goodbye and parted,
I knew we'd never meet again....”
It wasn't twilight, more like early afternoon with dark clouds overhead. And her eyes weren't blue, rather they were green. The soft green of new sage leaves and the most beautiful rust red hair that you've ever seen. And when we kissed it was not a kiss of goodbye, but one of future promise. Like a spring rain on a flower bed. Not meet again, surely you jest. Ooh but I didn't know, and it surely wasn't our plan. We'd planned to meet again and again and again, just as we had done before...
“Love is like a dying ember,
Only memories remain,
Through the ages I remember,
Her green eyes crying in the rain.....”
You love someone, a most special someone, and then you part. Now with the right stimulus you can live those memories again and again. Maybe it did rain that day, or maybe the mist in my eyes makes me think it did....
“Now my hair has turned to silver,
All my life I've loved in vain,
And I see her star in heaven,
Her green eyes crying in the rain....”
When did this happen? It seems like only yesterday I was the young “Coastie” in love with this beautiful girl from “Bama”. They called me Jacques on the ship, but she always called me by another. It scared me when she called herself, “The Next of Kin”, 'cuse back then, on the CB, I was “The Wayward Wind”. After we parted I was always looking for another like her. Allowing my mind to accept, then reject, because something wasn't right. Her image, her thoughts, her voice, another just didn't measure up. Her star in heaven? well, where else would you look for an angel (with a wee bit of the devil in her I admit) but in the heavens? And I wonder, did I get the colour right this time? Who knows or cares, surely I don't. It is the memory of her crying on my shoulder that day which matters.
“Some day when we meet up yonder,
We'll stroll hand in hand again,
In that land that knows no parting,
Her green eyes crying in the rain.”
Well I hope it's up yonder. It will be for her I'm sure. But for me, well I believe a much warmer reception. Oh, how I'd love to be holding her hand this night. Is there a land of no parting, Truly that is a place of faith and dreamers, yet I hope so, because I've never given up the hope for such a time. And to see her eyes crying again, surely, they will be tears of joy and happiness.
Oh, to be young and in love. You tell yourself you'd never make the same mistakes, but you know as well as I, were it not for our past our present would not be as it is. Change the past and you change the future. And these memories you cherish would not exist.
Then I pass it, there on the right, or maybe... no that is IT. That is the exit. The police report says so, and as always when confronted with a mystery I investigated every detail. On a warm summer's night, tired from a long weekend visiting a friend in Atlanta, she turned off the Interstate to the highway home. There are two exists for US-431 northbound, one here and another about five miles up the road. And because she is tired and sleepy, she thought this was the correct one. It was supposed to curve right and merge with the northbound lanes. She knew this from having driven it many times. Surely there was plenty of time to rest the eyes, just one second or maybe two, then off she'd go, up toward home.
The eighteen-wheeler was stopped at the traffic light and... “Oh hell, what was that?” “Not good”, the trucker says to himself as he climbs from the cab. “Oh hell”, he said again as his own tears began to fall.
Smokey took him aside and told him once more, “It's not your fault”.
“Asleep at the wheel”, at least that's what it says in the accident report.
Now, as I pass the lonely exit, her green eyes watch me crying in the rain ....
Llance
21August 1992
Notice to the reader; this is a true story. No names are given out of respect for the dead. The author is also the narrator.
I was married then and still am, still I love her. I would have divorced my present wife and married her as I should have back when first we were together. The reunion was great, but a life together was not meant to be. If you're single don't let this opportunity escape you.
GOING HOME
It's raining today in Georgia as we weave north bound on I-85 to Atlanta. Ben's supplied the fuel, some for me, some for the Star Cruiser, and some for the cargo bay, a refrigerated trailer hauling frozen chickens. I'd washed the cruiser that afternoon, so I knew it was going to rain. Not a heavy rain, still it would have to be done again before pulling into, “Shakey”. That's Los Angeles to you who do not know the trucker lingo.
After a bit of time we are west bound on I-20. After setting the autopilot for the long haul I turned down the volume on the radio. The chatter was getting on my nerves. Two pilots arguing or maybe just bragging, over who had the biggest, fastest, or best looking, cruiser. Who cares, we all have the same job to do, move the freight from where it is to wherever it is wanted or needed. With the volume turned down so just the “Smoky” reports filter in, I popped a tape in and the mellow sounds flow out. Some Jim Reeves, Marty Robbins, Sons of the Pioneers.
“What's that about the “coop”?”
“Closed this side, set up and spot checking in Alabama.”
“Well what did you expect?”
Time now for some Roger Whittiker. “Make the World Go Away” (Please take all the dumb idiots in four wheelers with it.) “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You”, The Most Beautiful Girl in The World”.
Just a little mist falling now, almost like it was that time before. How long ago? One year or not quite. What day? What day?
I have the same load in the cargo bay this trip as we did then, the only difference is, this time we are going to Ontario, CA not Denver, CO. That time we filled up at Ben's first then down to LaGrange. This time we loaded in LaGrange then north to Ben's.
I remember now, it was on the seventeenth when last I saw her, we parted on the eighteenth, I to Denver, she to Atlanta. “Catch the comic book up tomorrow”, I had said to myself, “we are going to see someone that we've dreamed about for so long.”
How long had it been? Well thirteen years since we were last together. A different time, a different place. How good it had been.
This time when I got into town, I called her on the phone, “Please, how about meeting me here? I'll be waiting in the back room, a table for two, in the corner, near the back door. I'm wearing a blue and white shirt. I'll buy you dinner?”
Now who is that I see? My goodness what a beautiful woman. It is one lucky fella who gets her to sit at his table. I sure wish it was going to be me. Oh my god, she let her hair grow, it is me.
“Come and sit down.”
God how I'd love to hug her. Thirteen years and still I loved her. It's fifteen now.
What's that song? Rewind. Start over.
In the twilight glow I see her,
Blue eyes crying in the rain
As we kissed goodbye and parted,
I knew we'd never meet again....”
It wasn't twilight, more like early afternoon with dark clouds overhead. And her eyes weren't blue, rather they were green. The soft green of new sage leaves and the most beautiful rust red hair that you've ever seen. And when we kissed it was not a kiss of goodbye, but one of future promise. Like a spring rain on a flower bed. Not meet again, surely you jest. Ooh but I didn't know, and it surely wasn't our plan. We'd planned to meet again and again and again, just as we had done before...
“Love is like a dying ember,
Only memories remain,
Through the ages I remember,
Her green eyes crying in the rain.....”
You love someone, a most special someone, and then you part. Now with the right stimulus you can live those memories again and again. Maybe it did rain that day, or maybe the mist in my eyes makes me think it did....
“Now my hair has turned to silver,
All my life I've loved in vain,
And I see her star in heaven,
Her green eyes crying in the rain....”
When did this happen? It seems like only yesterday I was the young “Coastie” in love with this beautiful girl from “Bama”. They called me Jacques on the ship, but she always called me by another. It scared me when she called herself, “The Next of Kin”, 'cuse back then, on the CB, I was “The Wayward Wind”. After we parted I was always looking for another like her. Allowing my mind to accept, then reject, because something wasn't right. Her image, her thoughts, her voice, another just didn't measure up. Her star in heaven? well, where else would you look for an angel (with a wee bit of the devil in her I admit) but in the heavens? And I wonder, did I get the colour right this time? Who knows or cares, surely I don't. It is the memory of her crying on my shoulder that day which matters.
“Some day when we meet up yonder,
We'll stroll hand in hand again,
In that land that knows no parting,
Her green eyes crying in the rain.”
Well I hope it's up yonder. It will be for her I'm sure. But for me, well I believe a much warmer reception. Oh, how I'd love to be holding her hand this night. Is there a land of no parting, Truly that is a place of faith and dreamers, yet I hope so, because I've never given up the hope for such a time. And to see her eyes crying again, surely, they will be tears of joy and happiness.
Oh, to be young and in love. You tell yourself you'd never make the same mistakes, but you know as well as I, were it not for our past our present would not be as it is. Change the past and you change the future. And these memories you cherish would not exist.
Then I pass it, there on the right, or maybe... no that is IT. That is the exit. The police report says so, and as always when confronted with a mystery I investigated every detail. On a warm summer's night, tired from a long weekend visiting a friend in Atlanta, she turned off the Interstate to the highway home. There are two exists for US-431 northbound, one here and another about five miles up the road. And because she is tired and sleepy, she thought this was the correct one. It was supposed to curve right and merge with the northbound lanes. She knew this from having driven it many times. Surely there was plenty of time to rest the eyes, just one second or maybe two, then off she'd go, up toward home.
The eighteen-wheeler was stopped at the traffic light and... “Oh hell, what was that?” “Not good”, the trucker says to himself as he climbs from the cab. “Oh hell”, he said again as his own tears began to fall.
Smokey took him aside and told him once more, “It's not your fault”.
“Asleep at the wheel”, at least that's what it says in the accident report.
Now, as I pass the lonely exit, her green eyes watch me crying in the rain ....
Llance
21August 1992
Notice to the reader; this is a true story. No names are given out of respect for the dead. The author is also the narrator.
I was married then and still am, still I love her. I would have divorced my present wife and married her as I should have back when first we were together. The reunion was great, but a life together was not meant to be. If you're single don't let this opportunity escape you.
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