The Week I Rose Again

“The Week I Rose Again”

(Genre: Country Ballad – heavy on heart, proud of grit)

By: Dillon, the comeback king in steel-toes and scrapes

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Slipped off the ramp, cracked bone and pride,

Truck 42 sittin’ crooked outside.

Six long months with a busted arm,

Left the crew behind, stuck on a farm.

Watched them move on through pictures and jokes,

My pads collected more dust than hopes.

Missed the grind, missed the sweat,

Didn’t know how much of me was in it yet.

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But I came back swingin’, scars and all,

Back on the truck by that first roll call.

Same old pads, same morning heat—

Same broken dolly and miles on my feet.

Didn’t miss a beat, just picked up weight,

Didn’t say much, let the hustle translate.

Then Kurt pulled me in, said “You’re steppin’ in right,”

Promoted me Friday… became a dad that night.

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Crew gave nods, Paul cracked a grin,

Joe said, “Knew you’d be leadin’ again.”

Brandon passed me the logbook keys,

I took that vest like it meant somethin’ to me.

Still sore, still stiff, but the fire lit fast,

Movin’ like six months never passed.

Didn’t come back just to punch some clocks—

I came to run this damn ol’ box.

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Yeah, I came back ready, head held high,

With nothin’ to prove but not scared to try.

Did the job right, no shortcut taken,

Earned that title I’d been forsaken.

Felt like the world was startin’ again—

Then I held my boy with these same hands, friend.

That week was rough, but damn sure right—

Promotion on Friday, a son Friday night.

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It’s funny how six months out can make you question everything…

But one full week back, and one look at my son—

And I remembered who the hell I was.

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So here’s to the broken who built back slow,

To the hands that heal and still can throw.

To the dads, the fighters, the ones who rise—

When the world’s heavy and the odds ain’t nice.

I came back bruised, but I came back strong—

Promoted with sweat I’d earned all along.

And that weekend, with my newborn near…

Was the week I rose again, loud and clear.