garage band blues

today i downloaded 10 songs from my late father’s garageband collection.

it was the first time i’d been to my childhood home in a few months.

i cried after listening to the first song,

a cover he recorded.

it’s easier to focus on the shitty things he did or didnt do,

to make his permanent absence a little easier,

than to hold the heaviness of his humanity.

to hear the sounds of his composition,

his imperfect crescendo,

recreation of songs that he loved,

countless hours dedicated to feeding his soul.

i wasn’t the most supportive of him,

the pendulum swing of him

telling me that no one wanted to hear that “noise”,

whenever i sang within earshot.

the irony that now hearing the culmination of his notes will bring tears to my eyes,

and bring him back to life.

he tried to teach me how to play guitar when i was a kid,

but i was impatient,

i didn’t understand the beauty of the process,

appreciate the gradual growth that would have come,

had i given myself the time.

i don’t blame myself anymore,

and i don’t blame him.

blame never got anyone anywhere,

and does nothing to change the present.

i never thought there’d come a day that i’d say i miss my dad,

but i do.

i’ve never missed him more than since he passed,

and that makes me sad when i think about it for extended periods.

all the things left unsaid.

all the questions left unasked.

it pushed me to live a little differently.

the feeling of urgency and fear set in for a while.

i’m slowing down now though,

so i can soak in every second of this rollercoaster ride.