I drove by your house to make sure you got home tonight.
The day after your birthday, we had planned for you to play music at a local bar. You were excited but not sure you would be able to get through the night without seeing mom in the crowd to cheer you on. I got off work and I came to see you about an hour before you started. You had already been crying because you had seen somebody that Mom and you had known for many years and she had given you a hug. You look like you have been crying all day.
I went to ask you if you needed anything, you said “maybe a shot once I start to play.” I went back to my bar stool and I sat there waiting for the hour to pass by so you would start playing. You came over, we took a shot, then you begin to play.
For the next 3 hours you played to your heart’s content, you played requests, you played fast songs, you played songs you said you wouldn’t play because Mom was not there…… you just kept playing.
The joy that I felt while seeing you play tonight was like nothing I’ve ever felt. I know your heart hurts so bad but I also know that your heart felt good finally playing for people that were listening.
After your gig was over my friend and I loaded up your truck, as we normally did, we always say we’re your Roadies. However tonight was a little bit different. You came out to the truck and you left sad. I could see you wipe a tear as you pulled out of the parking lot.
Things are different without her in the crowd.
I went back inside to pay my tab, normally I probably would have stayed to drink a little bit more with my friends, but tonight however, I was no longer enthusiastic. I paid the tab and I left.
I started to cry as I got in my car because I know things are different now. She used to always let me know when you all got home so I didn’t worry. But nobody called when they got home tonight. Nobody sent a message when they reached the house. Nobody let me know they got there and that they were okay.
So I drove by your house to make sure you got home tonight. I saw your truck sitting in the driveway but it was parked differently than normal. None of the house lights were on. I drove down the cul-de-sac, at least knowing that you were home okay. I figured you had walked in crying, just as you had left, and laid in her bed because you were so sad that she was not there in the crowd tonight.
I drove by your house to make sure you got home tonight, not to check up on you, not to bother you, but because I’m worried about you. I don’t know where you are mentally except you’re absolutely broken, shattered, and lonely. There are a lot of things that you say to me but I wonder if you won’t end it. I tell you I support you in any decision that you decide you need to make, and I have only told certain people how I feel about that. Your grief, your heartache, your pain, your loneliness, your emptyness, it’s something that I can only imagine. So when I tell you that I support you in any decision that you make, I truly mean when you say you have nothing else to live for, you still have me, Sarah, your daughter. You still have Roger. Your son. You still have Stefanie Zayne Kamryn Keaghan and Dakota, your Insta-grand kids who love you so much. They made all kinds of birthday cards for you this past weekend. One of them even made multiple pictures that said he loves this day and he loves to play here. One of them told me, you didn’t hear it of course, he looked at me while his shoe was untied, and he said “Nana Carla taught me how to tie my shoes,” and then he looked at you like he wanted you to know he remembers her, and then he shoved his shoe strings inside of his shoe. I said “Kamryn you can tie those” he shook his head no. I said “you want me to help you tie those?” He said “no” and then shoved them further down in his shoe and then got up and walked away from me.
So when I say I support you, I do. There are many people that care about you. We can’t take away your grief or your sadness but we can be here. I’ll always be here to make sure you’re ok, even when you don’t know it. Just like I drove by your house to make sure you got home okay.
I love you Daddy. We’ll make it through this.