A letter to my mentor

Who isn’t much of a role model

He makes mistakes like mother nature makes the winter

You know it’s coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. Your bones feel it.

 

But still.

My mentor he remains.

 

Instead of picking me up when I am down he looks at me,

Kindness in his eyes and a joke on the tip of his tongue

Shows me how to build myself back up

Hands me the glue and the sewing needles and the saw from his old, musty tool box

 

Tells me stories about the good ol’ days with his siblings

Running from the big kids, then running from the cops

Drawing comics in their books, then stealing comics from the store

Smokey fire pits, then smoking on the street corner

Watching Hotel Pacific, then living in a motel

 

That won’t be you he says to me.

You are worth more than that. You are a dreamer. And dreamers don’t give up

 

And so I strive to be a dreamer like you.

The one who got away and has crafted a life so beautiful it shines for the world to see.

No one notices, though. You don’t mind.

 

Some of my dreams are small

Some of my dreams are so big we need Nana’s old potato pot to hold them

Dreamers don’t give up

 

You taught me how to change a tire, how to love my mother, how to respect the strangers on the street that I will never see again,

How to pay taxes and how oil changes aren’t necessary (I agree to disagree here…  )

How to play poker and how to build a pirate ship,

How to love life even when it’s so full of shit you can’t seem to find any reason to keep going because when those moments hit you

 

Lift your head up. Dust yourself off.

Have some coffee. Maybe some beer.

Remember why you are here.

 

Because dreamers don’t give up.