I normally don’t post something so personal on the internet, but I feel like I must share this piece of me. This post has been roiling in my mind for a solid week. I don’t want sympathy or judgements; I just want eyes and ears.
My father passed away a little over a week ago. He lost his battle with a rare form lymphoma, which he suffered through for 13 months. I spent a good deal of time with him in December. Then, he was a frail, weak man who could barely walk from his apartment to the car. Unfortunately, after aggressive treatments the cancer came back as if no treatments were administered. Ironically, the chemotherapy killed off his immune system and he succumbed to a severe blood infection. The cancer did not kill my father, the “medicine” did.
For reasons beyond my control, we were not very close. This doesn’t make losing a parent any easier. I do wish things were different, but I do hold some great memories of our relationship when I was a small child. This experience has brought me back to my roots. To heal—to mend loose ends—it is helping me to reflect on where I come from.
I was digging through some old photos, photos I haven’t seen in over a decade, and I came across this photo of my dad:
My dad is the “bass fiddle” player when he was either a teenager or in his early 20s. This gave me a lot of comfort. My dad was doing what he loved, and now, I’m doing what I love. This photo brought back memories of when he used to take me to rehearsals of his bluegrass band. These rehearsals were my VERY first musical memories and experiences.
I also remember a time my mother got so angry at my father because he used to let me strum a guitar as he changed chords. She was so angry at him because I formed blistered on all of my little fingers. I remember clearly that I was making music with dad. I didn’t want to stop.. I insisted… which caused blisters to form on my hands the next day. He had me to keep a steady beat in various rhythmic patterns. Regardless of the blisters, I remember how much fun I had.
These early musical memories are the ones I hold very, very dear. My dad could very well be the reason why I am who I am, and responsible for planting the seeds of a lifetime in music.
There are several things I’d like to say to everyone who reads this post. Since this is still very fresh, I have been evaluating things in life that are essential:
1. Do what you love.
2. Don’t hold resentments or prejudices, they make you so very ugly. (Even if your religion gives you the OK to do so)
3. Take care of your body. Do a tiny bit of research of our food system in America, it may change your life for the better. Consider reestablishing your relationship with food.
Just a bit on the last one relating back to my father. When I did visit my dad during the last year, it was like looking into the future. It was like seeing myself with cancer, and it is something I never want to go through. With a little bit of research (AKA watching documentaries on Netflix), I found studies that show a direct link between the American diet and spikes in cancer. Take it or leave it, but with cancer hitting me so close to home (grandfather, father, and first cousin) I am extremely concerned about why this disease is so prevalent. So my plea to you is to dig a little bit into our food system, and I promise you, you will not like what you find. If you’re overweight, reevaluate your choices. Nourish your body with good food and the weight will fly off. If you drink a lot… reevaluate your choices. Smoke?… just stop. I hate to sound preachy, but the very bad food that we are eating is killing us.
I have been eating a high veggie/fruit/grain and very low meat and cheese diet since December (immediately after my last visit with my dad). Needless to say, I trimmed down very quickly (almost 40 pounds) and I feel much better. I love the food I prepare for myself, and the best thing is, I know where most of it comes from. It worked for me and it will for you. Just be aware.
One last thing, I found this baby picture of me with my dad:
Rest in peace, dad. I love you.
