Mitchell Tenpenny’s new song called Horseshoes and Hand Grenades is the inspiration for this post. The first time I heard the chorus it brought tears to my eyes. Jeff and I were driving, and I just wanted to burst into tears. Instead of letting my tears fall, I held back. I am not sure why. I guess I felt like Jeff wouldn’t understand. He would be confused as to why I just started crying for apparently no reason. He never met my dad so he wouldn’t know that one of my dad’s favorite sayings was “close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” Therefore, the song brought back memories of him and all the hurt I feel that he is gone.
I am not sure why my dad liked that saying so much. Maybe because we played sports, and we would say “that was close.” And he would say “close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” And it wouldn’t count. What he meant is it doesn’t matter if you are “close” to hitting your target or “close” to winning the game. In the end, you still missed or lost. Therefore, “close” doesn’t count except in the game of horseshoes, which I have never played so I am not sure I truly understand! But what my dad wanted from us was to work harder and be better.
I miss my dad so much. Next month it will be 10 years since he left this Earth. He was one of the most amazing people that I know. He was the baby of six children and from what I understand, he didn’t have the best childhood. I was told he was a great basketball player, but also a bit of a rebel. I think he got into drinking and smoking at a pretty young age. My mom fell for him, and they got married shortly after high school. She must have seen his true heart through his tough exterior. One of my dad’s best friends recruited him into the Army, and like many in that generation he went. I was born two years later. After serving four years and being stationed in various places, we returned to our small hometown. My parents made a wonderful life for my sister and me. We grew up in a small rural town where we still have the strongest ties to amazing family and friends, which is why Jeff and I decided to buy Gram’s House.
I guess every little girl thinks their dad can do no wrong, especially when they lose them at 36 years old. After surviving his childhood, building a life for his family, and working two careers after the plant in our town shut down, he got diagnosed with lung cancer at age 51. My dad was so strong and possibly so stubborn that he fought that damn cancer for nine years. He continued to work and drive for hours a day. He went to chemo and radiation and fought so hard that he was able to walk my sister down the aisle even after his lung collapsed. How he did it I will never know. He never seemed to get down, and he never showed us that he was scared. He was so strong. Some days it seems so unfair. It seems he fought his whole life and then his sweet life ended at 60.
So, when the Horseshoes and Hand Grenades song came on it took me back to my childhood. It took me back to all the amazing memories of my dad. Even though it brought tears to my eyes and made me sad that he isn’t here to share my life with now, I am grateful that that song made me think of him. I am thankful to have the memories and that those memories came back to me for a little while that day and almost every day.
As you know I love therapy and thinking back to that moment in the car, I do wish I would have let my emotions go. We are so accustomed to hiding our feelings, especially sadness from other people. We are taught by society that we need to be strong and not cry. Sometimes holding back can make your pain worse. We do need to give in to the tears and sometimes we just need to have a really good cry.
When something triggers an emotional memory for you, try to take the time to recognize the pain. Let the tears flow if you can. I have attached an article on how not crying can be harmful to your physical and mental health. Sometimes you need to postpone a cry. Pull yourself together for the moment but then let yourself go when you feel comfortable. We also need to recognize that even if triggers make us sad for a moment, don’t let them pull us down the emotional rabbit hole. We do need to pull ourselves back together. If we can’t then professional help may be needed.
In the end, thank God for the trigger and for the memories. Be thankful that for a moment in this fast-paced life of ours you took a few minutes to stop and remember your loved one. Then wipe the tears from your eyes and live your life to the fullest like your loved one would want you to.
Photo by Jeff Smith on Unsplash
2 Comments
This story really hits home for me. My dad passed away at a very young 60 also. Sometimes out of the blue, a song will come on, namely Rod Stewart’s Forever Young, which is how I envision my father, and I will just fall apart.
I’m sure it would touch your dad so deeply that his precious daughter, many years later, would be bursting with emotions and missing him. And I also bet that’s one thing Jeff adores about you is your strong love and loyalty to family 💗❤️💖
Thank you for sharing this story ☺️
Thank you, Kelly, for your sweet words! Songs are the worst and the best all at the same time. Our similar backgrounds is probably why we became such fast friends 🙂