Zach Carter is a third-year journalism major and writes “Carter’s Comments” for the Daily News. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the newspaper.

There are times when music does something to you. 

Whether it makes you want to dance, sing along or cry — music can move you. The latter was true for me this summer when country singer Luke Combs released his album “Fathers and Sons” June 14, two days before Father’s Day. 

The 12-track record focuses on the relationships — as you can probably guess — between a father and a son. 

While some might be able to enjoy what Combs sings about, I had mixed feelings. For one, I love the compilation of songs. It is in my top five country albums ever released. 

But when it arrived, I cried after listening to it as it came the day after the 18th anniversary of my father’s passing. 

It’s not that my dad’s death haunts me. He died when I was two years old. Growing up, it was just normal not having him around. I know that is not something most people can relate to, but it became my reality early in my life. 

My dad was 19 years old when he died in a car accident. My mom, who was only 20 years old at the time, was thrown into the world of being a single mother. Sometimes, I put myself in her situation and think about what I would’ve done. 

My parents had me at the end of high school. I know I am definitely not ready to be a parent at the age of 21, but throw in my dad’s passing and everything goes to hell. 

My mom, Tara, is a very open person. She’s never been afraid to talk about what it was like knowing it was just going to be her raising me. 

But it’s sometimes hard for me to hear her talk about it.

I know this isn’t true, but sometimes I feel like I held her back from accomplishing goals and doing things she wanted in life.  I understand it’s not my fault my dad passed away. Life can just be shit sometimes. 

How my mom handled the situation made it seem that it wasn’t such a bad thing. She took care of me in every way. From making sure I had clothes on my back to playing with action figures and Hot Wheels, she was the best mom a kid could ask for. 

I don’t tell her how much I love her enough, and it’s something I’m trying to get better at. 

While my mom did everything in her power to do things that a father would do, I was lucky to have other people in my life who cared about me. 

Beyond my amazing mother was a set of grandparents who made sure I had everything. My father’s parents — Chris and Sonya — were always there and still are to this day. 

I could call them needing anything, and I would have their support. My grandma Marsha was the person in my family who could do no wrong. From being a support system for my mom to always being the relative who I could talk with for hours, she was the best, and I miss her every day. 

But a boy needs a father figure. 

I can’t lie. When I talk about this, sometimes my emotional state changes. My grandpa Ed is the person I consider the closest to being a dad to me. He and I disagree on things like politics, and that has always been fun, but he’s my guy. 

Growing up without my father, I used to believe I would be a terrible dad. My grandpa Ed is one of the reasons I don’t think that anymore. From taking me fishing, teaching me what hard work is and influencing how I live my life, he was the dad I always wanted. 

Even though I’m older now, his love is still the most I feel other than my mom’s. From reading everything I’ve ever written, attending all of my high school golf matches and being more than just my “papaw,” I can’t thank him enough for filling that void. 

The last person who has helped me with the situation is my uncle Dustin, my dad’s younger brother. Even though he is my uncle, we’re close enough in age that we are like siblings. We used to wrestle and bicker when I was younger, which is where I get my sarcasm and sometimes joking mood from. 

While I will never understand what it’s like to lose a brother at such a young age, he has grown to see the terrible moment the same way I do. When people ask us about him, we’re honest — sometimes too honest. But I am not a person to hide things. If I think about it, there’s a good chance I’ll say it

I don’t know if my dad knows what I’m up to or if he knows where my life is going. I’m not going to hypothesize about what happens after death, but I hope he knows I miss him every day. I think about having kids one day and the fact they might not have a grandpa like I did, and that hurts. 

In Combs’ album, the one that eats me up is “In Case I Ain’t Around.” In the song, a father is writing a list of things to do just in case he isn’t around for a long time. 

I wished my dad could have done that. I would love to see his take on this journey and what I need to do to enjoy it. 

While I didn’t get that and never will, there is one thing his passing did for me, and I will always remember it: Appreciate the people in your life because they won’t always be around. 

Thanks, Dad. I love you. 

Contact Zach Carter via email at zachary.carter@bsu.edu or on X @ZachCarter85.

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