This story was written by a trucker, who
had an accident while driving his load through the curvy and twisty roads
around Steambout Mountain, Alaska. Before fellow truckers and the Canadian
Mounted police found him dead 2 days later of the accident, He still had time
to write a last letter to say good bye to his family and love. Here it is:
My Darling Wife,
This is a letter that no man ever wants to write, but I'm lucky enough
to have some time to say what I've forgotten to say so many times. I love you
sweetheart!
You used to kid me that I loved the truck more than you because I
spent more time with her. I do love this
piece of iron- she's been good to me. She's seen me through tough times and
tough places. I could always count on her in a long haul and she was speedy in
the stretches. She never let me down. But you want to know something? I love you
for the same reasons. You've seen me throught the tough times and places, too.
Remember the first truck? That run down 'ol' cornbinder ' that
kept us broke all the time but always made just enough money to keep us eating?
You went out and got a job so that we could pay the rent and the bills. Every
cent I made went into the truck while your money kept us in food with a roof
over our heads.
I remember that I complained about the truck, but I don't remember you
ever complaining when you came home hired from work and I asked you for money
to go on the road again. If you did complain, I guess I didn't hear you. I was too wrapped up with my
problems to think of yours.
I think now of all the things you have up for me. The clothes, the
holidays, the parties, the friends. You never complained and somehow I never
remembered to thank you for being you.
When I sat having coffee with the boys, I always talked about my truck,
my rig, my payments. I guess I forgot you were my partner, even if you weren't
in the cab with me. It was your sacrifices and the determination as much as
mine that finally got the new truck.
I was so proud of that truck I was bursting. I was proud of you too, but
I never told you that. I took it for granted you knew, but if I had spent as
much time talking with you as I did polishing chrome, perhaps I would have.
In all the years I've pounded the pavement, I always knew your prayers
rode with me. But this time they weren't enough.
I'm hurt and it's bad. I've made my last mile and I want to say the
things that should have been said so many times before. The things that were
forgotten because I was too concerned about the truck and the job. I'm thinking
about the missed anniversaries and birthdays. The school plays and hockey games
that you went alone because I was on the road.
I'm thiking about the lonely nights you spent alone, wondering where I
was and how things were going. I'm thiking of all the times I thought of
calling you just to say hello and somehow didn't get around to. I'm thinking od
the peace of mind I had knowing that you were at home with the kids, waiting
for me.
The family dinners where you spent all your time telling your folks why
I couldn't make it. I was busy changing oil; I was busy looking for parts; I
was sleeping because I was leaving early the next morning. There was always a
reason, but somehow they don't seem very important to me right now.
When we were married, you didn't
know how to change a light bulb. Within a couple of years, you were
fixing the furnace during a blizzard while I was waiting for a load in Florida.
You became a pretty good mechanic, helping me with repairs, and I was might
proud of you when you jumped into the cab and backed up over the rose bushes.
I was proud of you when I pulled into the yard and saw you sleeping in
the car waiting for me. Whether it was two in the morning or two in the
afternoon you always looked like a movie star to me. You're beautiful, you
know. I guess i haven't told you that lately, but you are.
I made lots of mistakes in my life, but if I only ever made one good
decision, it was when I asked you to marry me. You never could understand what
it was that kept me trucking. I couldn't either, but it was my way of life and
you stuck with me. Good times, bad times, you were always there. I love you,
sweetheart, and I love the kids.
My body hurts but my hear hurts even more. You won't be there when I end
this trip. For the first time since we've been together, m really alone and it
scares me. I need you so badly, and I know it's too late.
It's funny I guess, but what I have now is the truck. This damned truck
that ruled our lives for so long. This
twisted hunk of steel that I lived in and with for so many years. But it can't
return my love. Only you can do that.
You're a thousand miles away but I feel you here with me. I can see your
face and feel your love and I'm scared
to make the final run alone. Tell the kids that I love them very much and don't
let the boys drive any truck for a living.
I guess that's about it, honey. My god, but I love you very much. Take
care of yourself and always remember that I loved you more than anything in
life. I just forgot to tell you.
I love you,
Bill
