Don't Cry Because it's Over...Smile Because it Happened
I never imagined that I would lose my father so soon. I never imagined I would be sitting here typing up a memorial in his honor. It never crossed my mind that Christmas 2001 was the last Christmas I would ever have with him. But here I sit. Grieving. Typing. Remembering. It's horrible. I have not posted anything regarding my father's death until now. Partly because I was too shaken up to deal with it. Partly because I wanted to wait until his birthday. I have collected various pictures and have written a poem and some of my thoughts. It would be a tremendous honor if you would take the time to look through this memorial I have put together. I know it's hard to get emotional over someone you don't even know. I'm not asking for a pity party or a mailbox full of condolences. I just ask that you please take the time to get to know a tiny fraction of the man I had the honor of calling "Deddy." Thank you.
--Mel
As you could probably gather from reading the above dates, my father was relatively young. 47 to be exact. I am 19. I will never forget the day I found out about his death. I was in Boston, Massachusetts. I was on the last day of my music workshop that I had been attending at the Berklee College of Music. I was wearing a pink lacy top and hipster frayed jeans. My hair was down, my makeup was on. I had just given a performance on stage at the Berklee Performance Center. My sister and my mother were there. They knew the whole time they sat there watching me perform, while I was still clueless as to any events that had transpired 12 hours prior. After I had finished, we went to the bookstore before they closed. Then my sister informed me we needed to go back to our room so she could get something. I came inside the room, and sprawled out on the bed to take a breather. My sister came over and sat down at the head of the bed and started playing with my hair. My mom sat at the foot of the bed, with one leg on the bed, one leg hanging off. I was still clueless. I was thinking to myself "I really should call Deddy and tell him I just got to play on the BPC stage." That's when I heard my sister say in a somewhat solemn voice.. "Mel, I have something to tell you." I immediately sat up and looked at her and said "NO" and shook my head. Somehow I knew what had happened before they even finished telling me. My mom continued "It's not good, Mel. It's not good. It's your worst fear, baby." I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I put my head in my hands and sat there frozen and somehow tried to rationalize the fact that my father was probably watching us, listening to every word, and watching my reaction. Knowing this, I controlled my emotions. My eyes watered a bit. But I still didn't cry. I proclaimed to my mom and sis "Well, he wouldn't want us sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves. It's our last night in Boston. Let's enjoy it!," even though I knew there would be no way I could. But we went to dinner at the Top of the Hub restaurant in the Prudential Building. I couldn't enjoy it. We came back to the room and packed our things for our early morning departure. I called a few people to inform them of what had happened. I talked to Liv for a pretty good while. But that was how it went. The flight home the next morning was hell. I couldn't help but think that exactly a year to the day prior, my father and I were in Boston together. Now, I was leaving Boston to come back home to lay his body in eternal rest...
You were my comfort
In the midst of all my fears
You were the gentle hand
That wiped away my tears
You were my promising rainbow
That followed a stormy rain
You were my welcome relief
From my hurting and my pain
You were my brightest smile
When I only wanted to frown
You made me hold my head up high
Even when I wanted to look down
You were my reassurance
When I knew nothing but defeat
You were my encouragement
When my heart wanted to retreat
You were my sturdy anchor
When my feet couldn't find solid ground
You were always my precious song
When I could not hear any sound
You were my music, you were my light
You were my hero, you were my sight
You were my confidant, you were my friend
You are my father...I'll see you in Heaven
The last time I saw my dad was on Father's Day. We had a good visit. We did not talk much, but we didn't need words. We watched the movie "Pay it Forward" together and rocked back and forth in recliners. I gave him a cute card and some Royal Copenhagen soap/cologne, etc. It was his favorite. Whenever I left, I got into my car. Something tugged at me to go back inside, so I did. Something told me that it would be the last time I saw him again. I don't know why, but I felt like God was gently preparing me. So, I went back inside and gave my father a final hug and kiss goodbye and told him I loved him. And that was it. That was our last conversation, our last visit.
At his funeral, my sister, 3 of my female cousins, and I sang. My sister and I sang lead mostly, and the 5 of us all harmonized. We sang "What a Day", "Holy", and "Amazing Grace." My dad was always the piano player in the family and elsewhere at get togethers and concerts, so we sang a verse of "Amazing Grace" acapella to symbolize that we lost our piano player. It was difficult, but it was something we knew we had to do.
To this day, the cause of death is still unknown.
Please allow the pics time to load.
Thank you, Dad, for taking this picture so that I can look at it and know that you really DID have an Alfalfa hairdo
Thank you, Dad, for following 70s fashion and wearing flare jeans so that I can compare you to John Travolta.
Thank you, Dad, for moments like these that I now own in my memory forever.
Thank you, Dad, for holding me close and letting me know that I really and truly were your world.
Thank you, Dad, for wearing this suit and posing like this. You look like a million bucks.
Thank you, Dad, for taking this pic with Uncle Mike so that I can now compare it with this picture... 
Thank you, Dad, for teaching me the value of relaxation
Thank you, Dad, for being 50% responsible for my big sister being here
Thank you, Dad, for being at my 11th birthday party, and despite the fact you were in intense pain that day, you never let it show.
Thank you, Dad, for keeping me right there beside you...sometimes against my will
Thank you, Dad, for always being a family man.
Thank you, Dad, for being my biggest source of musical inspiration. I bet you didn't know that did you?
Thank you, Dad, for just being you...and that always included me.
Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts and share some of my joy in these photographs. It really means a lot to me. A word of advice to all of you: Please do not leave anything left unsaid to your loved ones. Work out your problems, get over your grudges, embrace what God has given you, because in a millisecond He can take it away just as quickly as He gave it to you.
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