It's cold and he might feel alone on top of those windy mountains and dusty hills, but that man doesn't complain once.
Sometimes he might feel like no one cares, or no one knows the sacrifice he's made.
But they do.
Whenever he comes home, they see it in his eyes. He'll wrap his strong arms around his wife and children, hug them like it might be the last time, because they've all known loneliness.
Then, he'll leave again--work in the blistering sun, the stabbing rain and the freezing winters.
Years pass and his wife still can't fathom how he does it, or how she chanced upon someone so amazing. After all, she's seen the strange places he's been. The cliffs which loom high and dangerous. The holes he bores into the Earth that seem like the work of giants.
It's a sacrifice each time they're apart, but worth it when they're together--as if color enriches their sights, and every sound has a silvery tone.
It's because that man is what warriors are made from. He's giving and kind, gentle in the strangest ways, yet so unyielding no one wants to cross him. He knows the value of a hard day's work. He knows that when he comes home, he'll find children who adore him, and a wife who loves him more every day.
Because it's people like this selfless man, who really keep our country going. It's the truckers, who haul goods day in and out. It's the workers who toil and labor. It's the kind construction folk who work hard to repair our roads, and give us finer things and modern conveniences.
This is a tribute to them . . .
Because you haven't been forgotten.
For everything you've done and
everything you still do--THANK YOU!
Cade, my brother Shane (here's a link to his blog: Middle Damned) and I wrote a song for my father. I thought it would be fun to share it with you today.
The first song is called "Construction Man."
Song #2 is one I wrote for Cade.
I hope you'll enjoy our music!
If you're wondering, Cade and I are singing.
I'm playing the violin, and Cade's playing the guitar.
For more information about our music, please click here: