Open Letter to My Father

This is an open letter to my father

Dearly departed

This world, this time

So many things I wish I could have told him

Not that I didn’t try

It just couldn’t really sink in

Maybe for lack of listening

Or maybe I just never figured out how

In another time, with a different voice

Here are some of those things:

Love more, buy less

Close your eyes and listen harder

You might see a world you’ve never known

Your father was right

The best Girlscout leader is a Boyscout leader

Because anything the XY can do a double X can do

Not better, not worse, just different

The world is not against you

The twisted cells that overtook your body

Were not karma, they were negativity

A spirit out of balance, looking for answers

In late nights clutching a guitar at some dirty DC bar

Tea for two till midnight

While your wife and baby are at home

You didn’t mean them ill

You just can’t feel what that’s like

Empathy a four letter word

In a world with only two, M.E.

These truths have cut us deep

You’ll never admit it

Because we believe what we need

Laying in the trenches while you bleed

Saying tis but a scratch

This moment till the last

Self preservation, such a powerful thing

But you never fully realized

Your greatest accomplishment

And amazing gift

That you helped create

Two strong, beautiful, creative, loving daughters

But when things got tough

You weren’t sure what it takes to be a father

Wanted your freedom, your space, your money

And that’s fine, those things are yours

We have our own potential

And we know that

Because we were raised right

But you weren’t sure how to love

Be there, listen, care, apologize

And mean it

I can only wish you more time

To find these things

In the depths of your own mind

Who knows why anything happens

How long we have

How to make the best of it

I just wish we both meant the same thing

When we said I love you

And I wish you well

I wish I could tell you

In a way to make you

Not just understand

But know, hear, feel

That love is not a possession

And support is not a quantity

I love you for choosing

The wonderful woman who birthed me

I love you for your

Your father and all he embodied

I love you for

The love of music we shared

I love you for showing me

That six figures alone

Cannot buy happiness

And

I love you for

Making me a girl

Then making me question the validity of that

Every day of my childhood

‘Cause now I know

The amazing power of resilience

The saddest part of all this

Is that you are still here with us

The other side of the world

But just as close as you ever were

Sitting across a café table

Telling me my feelings are wrong

And that your low platelet counts

Aren’t that big a deal

They are, as they are with any of us

There isn’t much time

Honestly, there never was

You remain closed off

To the regenerative power

Of listening, learning, giving

Grasping at proverbial

Motorcycle parts

In an attempt to rebuild a new youth

But the parts just aren’t there

So it will never run right

My question to you is

Are you man enough

To ask for help

When you realize

It will never run right

the way it is

Sweat it out / Shiver it up: Emotional Thermoregulation in a Life of Extremes

Moments of clarity always seem to come with a perspective shift. This is nothing new. There's something therapeutic to constantly messing up my body clock and traipsing through old haunts while forging new memories. And new memories are certainly in order.

This trip back to my place of origin is covered in reminders of the brevity and fragility of life. It's interesting to see how the individual characters perceive and react to these realisations. Ultimately, I guess we all just scramble harder to be our 'real' selves. Sometimes for better, sometimes....well I don't really know.

Presently, I'm camped out on the 7th floor of an office building in the Chelsea district of Manhattan NYC. My makeshift hotel room is an unused office of my high school best friend's current workplace. You can never predict these things. They just happen. I have no idea what I'll get into tomorrow but I'm sure it will be at least decently random (and very cold).

Pardon my lack of organizational strategy but really you can blame that ugly monster the 'time crunch' (and my incessant need for sleep on a dailyish basis). What follows is random tidbits from my journal that I've had with me these past two weeks as I've hopped a few time zones, reconnected with old friends, made some new ones and been forced to do things like "relax".

Dec 3rd on the plane to take off:

Funny how the excitement of airports is tinged with an odd sense of familiarity by this point. For the first time since I lived in GA, I actually feel like I'm a visitor to these destinations ahead. I have a place to call home. A place I'm excited to go back to, people who will miss me but know I'm coming back. That's a new feeling for me.

On staying in a resort (for free) in Fiji for 2 days and 1 night:

It's very peculiar for me to stay in a large, posh, corporate hotel/resort. While the comforts and amenities are enjoyable, I can't shake the obvious sense of distance between myself as a guest and the people I will be interacting with over these two days. I wonder what it's like where they live. What do they think of this place? Do they like their bosses? What must they think of the tourists? What do they do when they get a holiday? How do they stand listening to these horrible Christmas songs for a month straight, especially while it's 32 degrees Celsius and 95% humidity?!

Artwork by Krystal Campbell 

This hotel complex is an odd slice of life. Obviously trying hard to strive for the cookie cutter corporate ideal, leveraging the "bulla smile" and typical tropical trappings to their fullest extent. Yet, the mushrooms, birds, toads and geckos all proudly remind me of the underlying untamed sense of this place. The afternoon storms don't care if you're only in for one day or you've lived here your whole life. The cheesy Christmas music on repeat adds an extra layer of touristiness to the experience. And yes, the birds will stare you down in an attempt to intimidate you out of your breakfast. This is their house and yes they like pancakes. Give them some pancakes or they will poop in your cereal!

For now, that's all I got.

(My pictures to be added later once I can download them)