"Daadd. Puh-leaze turn this awful music OFF!"
"But Mandy, this is a classic, how can you not like it?"
"Because DAD, it isn't cool, and it's totally out of fashion...please can we turn the station?!"
"This is good music. We aren't going to listen to your rap crap."
Tonight one flick of the radio dial and a '70's rock song that came blaring through the speakers made me become completely lost in memories.
I couldn't stop the tears that flowed freely from my eyes as they made what was already a tricky winter driving experience all the more questionable.
Grief.
You never know when or where it's going to strike.
Just a few seconds earlier I had been relishing a quiet ride to town all by myself and was happily singing some up-beat country song when for whatever reason I decided to turn the station.
When 'Crocodile Rock' began playing and all those times I argued with my dad came rushing back to me I just couldn't help but feel sad and lost.
I long to talk to this man who frustrated me so much sometimes (especially when it came to music choice) and tell him how much I cherish all of those times, the good, and the bad.
If I could, I would tell him how I can never turn the station when one of his songs comes on.
I wish he could know how these songs are so important to me today.
They allow me have these memories of simple times, even if they are memories of silly little arguments.
Most importantly they remind me that he was here, and that he is still very much an important part of my life even if I don't get to see him.
I am so grateful for moments like these.
I love you dad, thanks for this memory.
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