It was nineteen years ago today that I got back from the hospital, plopped myself down on the couch in an empty house, and said to myself "alright...what do I do now"? A guy who was father, big brother, and best friend to me was gone.
I'm lucky that I had my dad around as long as I did. He taught me many things, including the biggie: that life should be fun. He didn't mean that life was always going to me a piece of cake, or a bowl of cherries, or some other food metaphor. He meant that whatever life has handed you, find the good. Find the fun. Laugh a little. Laugh a lot. Bring your guitar to the beach. There may be some who look at you like you're a little nuts for bringing a guitar to the beach, but they may also end up being the same people who join you later to sing a song or two.
As far as the "what do I do now" question, I choose to believe that my Dad would be happy with what I've done since he left. I feel I've chosen a path that makes me happy. And although there have been speed bumps (and potholes and sink holes) along the way, I took his advice and did what my heart told me to do. He would be proud that I became a radio guy and that I found a way to keep music in my life even when I'm working.
I miss you Dad, and I think about you every day.
Jake (family nickname... long story)
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I never really got to know your dad as much as I might have, but when I've read your memories/reflections of him over the years, it always brings a big smile to my face and a little tug to my heart, because you capture what I remember of him so well!
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