The wind almost pushed me back as I took a step around the corner on my walk this evening. Wind gusts were close to 30 miles an hour. Other parts of my walk were nice. The clouds were a mix of puffy white dollops and angry gray streaks. I was enjoying my walk.
And just like that I was crying.
Earlier today I wrote an autobiographical poem for day 16 of the April Poem a Day challenge. It dealt with the time my biological mom moved us to Albuquerque. So, my personal history was on my mind. Then my playlist played “Walk Like a Man” by Tim McGraw (number 85 on my top 100 list).
There’s a lot to this song I connect with, but it wasn’t really about those issues.
Grief is an interesting emotion. The world suddenly shifted in color, as if a filter had been applied behind my eyes. And just like that I knew my biological father was gone. And with that realization came a wave of loss. Sadly not of him, but of what could have been. It has been four months since his passing, but everyday from here on out is a reminder that in part, our story is over.
But I’m still here dealing with the hurt.
And just like that the world is different… I’m not sure it is better, though.
For my regular readers you know that my best friend and I have been counting down our top 100 songs of all time. We finished last week. My best friend proposed our top 25 albums of all time, which we will start sharing in June.
Here are my top 5 songs.
Number 5:
“Welcome to the Boomtown” by David & David.
A group that only produced one album. The album is a look at the gritty truth about life. “Welcome to the Boomtown” is pretty clear about how drugs affect a town. There are two main story lines, both look at people that should be successful but drugs and money take them down. It was a song I loved as soon as I heard it, way back in high school… and it is still on lots of my playlists.
Number 4:
“I Don’t Wanna” by The Call.
There is so much here about this song. This was an important song for me as I was trying to change everything and understand what my choice would lead to. I connected and still connect with the loneliness of feeling love. The song is complex and certain parts connect with life as I’ve grown. But at the heart is just the desire to be loved in the moment. Yet, life takes it away and you have to live without it.
Number 3:
“Alive and Kicking” by Simple Minds.
There are some levels to this song, one level is about how love makes you feel. But there is a sad aspect with it, what if it goes away? The chorus asks those questions. The question that gets me is ‘who’s going to save you?’ I love the build up to that question (second time), the music and the lyrics. Alive and Kicking is a cool idiom to express the energy Love gives you, but also takes from you. This song lifts my spirit every time I hear it.
Number 2:
“Up Where We Belong” by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes.
I wanted this to be the song my wife and I danced to at our wedding reception. My sappy side is on full display in this song. But honestly, I believe in it… in Love, real love. I don’t know how or why but that belief kept me holding on in so many different ways throughout my years. It is why I didn’t have relationships like I saw my parents have. Why I fought to make my life better. Love can change everything.
Number 1:
“I Would Die 4 U” by Prince.
First it is a groovy song. You want to dance to it as soon as it starts. When I was young I thought it was a great love song, a little weird with the lyrics but the feeling of being in love so much you would die for them is universal and that’s why many people still see it as a love song. But it is more spiritual than that. This is a first person perspective from Jesus. People don’t know that. If you read the lyrics as you listen you will understand the perspective. Even with that, there is a line that gets to me personally, third verse when Prince rapid fires the “I-I-I’ really need is to know that you believe”. I guess I have always been searching for that… to know someone believes in me.
So, they say you can learn a lot about a person by the music they listen to… this is part of who I am through by my top 5 songs.
Today has been routine, blueberry muffins (and scrambled eggs and sausage patties) then church.
My mood was and is still a little blue after yesterday’s slam event (I Quit). But life has a way of giving me dots to connect (regular readers understand that reference). The message today was about obedience. This post is not about the sermon, it is about this life.
Obedience: noun
1 a: an act or instance of obeying
b: the quality or state of being obedient
*from Merriam-Webster.
First topic, writing, especially poetry but also any goal someone is pursuing. We understand the work it takes to pursue any goal. The dedication, the time, and the energy it takes. Even with the talent and work ethic, success is not guaranteed. But some form of failure seems to be. I think we all understand this concept, so let’s go deeper and bring in obedience.
“The quality or state of being obedient.” How is this connected to following a dream? Might be an unpopular take but I believe that our goals and dreams are part of who we are. In all our shades of colors, we are here to live a life driven by our goals. Of course they change as we grow, as we learn, and as we fail. And yes, others have the same goals. I can’t even imagine how many people want to be a poet… but they can’t write my poems.
Being obedient to a dream is to be true to ourselves. To give our life the authority of creating our everydayness. Yesterday (and still a little today), I felt like giving up on poetry, on writing. But I actually have a rough draft of a poem already on paper…
Poetry is not something I do
It is who I am
Do you not understand?
I understand, too well, that following a goal is not so easy, that our everyday life is filled with decisions and the welfare of other people. That we have in our hearts a collection of desires and hopes. There are moments when our dreams are in conflict with each other, and we have to make a choice. Which dream do we obey?
Obedience is not giving away our power, it is fulfilling what our life should be. We can rebel, I can quit writing. I can ignore the muse when it strikes. I did not have to write this blog post. You, reader, would have never known I was rebelling. Rebelling against who I am… but that’s not being REAL. (My word for the year.)
What about the muffins? Faithful readers know the role of making muffins on Sunday for my family. It is also an act of obedience. Obedience to my dream, my reality of having a loving home, having a tradition that brings us all together as much as possible. A dream I try to be obedient to every day.
I usually use Spotify on my walks. Not 100 percent of the time, but mostly. By now you may have seen the AI DJ option. I’m sure you know that the “shuffle” option is not actually random for a playlist. Heck it is not random if you shuffle an artist. Even if you are a true fan, you usually just get the top songs…
AI is telling me what my own musical taste is… and it’s wrong.
Let’s stay with the music first. Jake Peterson in his article “The Reason Spotify Shuffles Aren’t Really Random (and How to Fix It)” says it best, “But most of us use the shuffle feature because we want random songs to play. Intentionally picking only songs that match each other means there are plenty of tracks that never see the light of day, and other songs that play much more frequently.”
I have over a 1000 CDs, hundreds of cassettes, and my “Just Some Good Songs” playlist on Spotify is 49 hours long.
Do I remember every song I ever heard? No.
Do I own CDs I haven’t listened to for awhile? Yes. But I have listened to every one of them at least once.
My musical taste is mine. So, when I hit shuffle on a playlist, or an artist, like Prince. I am expecting to hear songs I haven’t heard in awhile. I want to be taken back in time, to remember moments I hadn’t thought of in awhile. I want to be reminded of how great a song is, or to appreciate a song now that I have experienced more in life and the song hits differently.
By default the algorithm is designed to play songs that match together. Joe Fedewa explains how this works in his article, “Why Spotify Shuffle is Not Truly Random”. Basically, Spotify curates the songs in a playlist, trying to keep songs by the same artist spread out and to have songs flow together. So, as Jake Peterson said, you may never hear a song you put on a playlist. A song you like.
The beauty of life is the randomness that happens.
Seeing a bird take flight on my walk.
Trying a new drink at the coffee shop, or the crazy new chip flavor Lay’s comes up with.
Or having a DMX song play after Phil Collins on my walk. That’s who I am, at least musically. AI will never understand that.
My best friend and I have been sharing our top 100 favorite songs of all-time in countdown style since January 1st. We share one song each day with a quick insight on why the song was chosen. Usually we send the song info each morning. Today was no different. (Today was number 59, “A Different Corner” by George Michael for me. For my best friend it was Jane’s Addiction, “Summertime Rolls”)
I sent my text as I was waiting for the oven to preheat. The muffin pan was filled with the paper muffin cups. Coffee was about halfway done. A regular Sunday morning vibe. I smiled as I sent my song because I remembered the music video we made for my song. We filmed my reflection in a closet mirror as I sat backwards on a kitchen chair… where was TikTok when I was a teen?
Over the last month it has been a musical journey sharing my list with my best friend. Yes, many of the songs are connected to our friendship, but others are soundtracks to other times in our lives. My best friend has songs from obscure artists that he has seen in concert. I have songs that I sing along to with my daughters. It is fun to continue to learn more about my best friend. It has also been good to remember the better moments in my life.
Good moments like blueberry muffins on Sunday morning.
Would I be able to say or write anything if I knew it was the end?
I think I would want to see the stars one last time, that’s for sure.
But I’m 99.9% sure this is not the end. That I will get up tomorrow morning, get ready for work, fill my daughters’ water bottles, maybe make lunch (at the time of writing this they are going to eat hot lunch tomorrow). On the way to work my wife will get her Mocha Sea Salt Caramelicious blender. I will teach, eat lunch, teach some more, then head home. Depending on the night we might head to an activity, make dinner, or take one of the kids to a practice. I might wash dishes, or sit down to write with a cup of coffee (which I have next to me as I write). To finish off the day, I will read (reading Fairy Tale by Stephen King right now), brush my teeth, take my blood pressure pill and head off to bed.
Then repeat…
…unless…
…unless, this is the end.
I would like you, reader, to know that it has been a blessing to share my writing with you. To share my joys and heartbreaks.
I would want my family and friends to know I love them and that this life is beautiful underneath all the hate, trouble, and selfishness it seems to wrap itself in.
I would like people to remember my writing and the depth I tried to live my life. This life is the closet thing to heaven I’ve ever found.
But it is not the end… but I’m going to do a little stargazing after posting this blog.
I’m also going to make sure to tell people I love them before I go to bed. You never know.
I have been in survival mode for some time now. I know it. I know why. I’m tired of feeling hurt. And not just the big moments, the everyday, small nicks are just as bad because they are never ending. Put the moments together and I am tired of having my heart feel raw and bruised.
Survival mode allows me to get up each morning. Allows me to put on a small smile, make my daughter’s lunch, and even enjoy a walk. I can function pretty well in survival mode. I have written some good poetry, played basketball with my daughters last night. I have been happy.
But see survival mode is a hollow chocolate bunny. You know the kind. Candy eyes, big ears, maybe even holding a candy carrot. You know it is going to taste good. Thinking about biting into solid chocolate. But instead the ears crumble between your teeth. There is a soft echo as bits of chocolate fall into the body, landing in the space where the feet are.
The chocolate is still good. But there is a sense of sadness, of disappointment, finding out that there is more air than chocolate to the bunny. The experience is shallow. Over quickly, too, because you are hungry for the full experience of eating chocolate. But wanting the joy in knowing there would be more later. But there isn’t when it is hollow.
Survival mode is a hollow chocolate bunny. Yes, it works. But it can not compete with the delight of taking a full bite of life.
In 2021 Kevin Garnett wrote a cool book, KG: A to Z: An Uncensored Encyclopedia of Life, Basketball, and Everything in Between. Instead of a traditional narrative structure, KG told his story by creating a personalized encyclopedia. The reader could look up a topic or word to read his insight or his story connected to that word like an encyclopedia. It was a cool book to read.
The past 10 months have been challenging. My perspective has been challenged on many different levels. Certain words or ideas have been the focus of some of those challenges. I thought it would be useful to use the same organization KG did for his book for this blog post. So, here is my Life Encyclopedia.
Art: The expression of the heart. See also, music, poetry, writing.
Blogging: See writing.
Death: The natural end of our time here. Everybody knows that death awaits for us all. Yet, we do not actually live like we know this truth. We waste time on petty issues, or involved with our screens in some mindless activity. We tend to live like tomorrow will always be there, so we feel like we can let today slide. I wonder what life would look like if we actually lived like we knew our time here ends.
Dreams: I debated on whether to use ‘dreams’ or ‘goals’ for this section. I decided on ‘dreams’ for two reasons. First, it sounds more poetic. Second, I feel that a dream can be accomplished, but even then a dream can still pull at your heart. And chasing our dreams should be part of our everyday existence. The pursuit of making our dreams a reality is what fills our spirit. Makes the hard days easier to endure. Our dreams are our purpose for being here. Some dreams change, some become reality, while we chase others our whole life. That is the beauty of having a dream.
Family: This is the most complex life topic I’ve been dealing with over the last year. Family has been a central issue all of my life. From living separately with both biological parents, to walking away from most of my bloodline, that allowed me to start my own family.
There is the crutch of the idea of family. As a dad I have a saying (OK, I have a handful of sayings), “Family gets your best behavior.” The heart of this is to remind everyone that the most important people should not be treated better than strangers. Yes, there are disagreements and challenges to work through, but they are handled with love. Our home is the safest place in this world for everyone.
I never felt safe or truly loved growing up. I knew that, at different times, that alcohol and other people mattered more than me. Even as I’ve learned more about who my biological father was after his passing, I still wonder why I didn’t matter. Why their son was not worth their time or love.
Blood doesn’t define family. I mattered to Wayne and Janine (for new readers, Janine is my mom that passed away last summer). I found a home that was filled with love that showed me what a family could be like. No, it wasn’t perfect. This household isn’t perfect, but the foundation is love and acceptance. That is how a family is built.
Friends: Yes, a friend can be seen as family, but I think real friendship is its own unique relationship that allows it to be a separate component of life. I don’t have a lot of real friends. Oh, I have many friends and acquaintances, but honestly, I have one best friend. We have been friends since junior high. Yes, we have had some rough spots, and yes, it was over a girl, but what makes our friendship strong is knowing that we have each other’s back. We share our dreams and hardships. Even though we are miles apart, we do fun things, like right now we are sharing our top 100 songs of all time, but doing it one day at a time. We have been there for the big moments; we both were each other’s best man for our weddings. A friend is part of your foundation that brings a different kind of joy and support.
Learn: The act of becoming who you are through different means; such as reading, living, questioning and other experiences.
Life: This moment right now, which is a mix of the past, dreams for the future, and the current emotion to create a unique experience for all of us.
Love: The center of life.
Music: One of the many artistic elements that build bridges between people. For me it is a sanctuary. I always had the radio to accompany me when I changed houses, changed parents, changed my life. There is nothing like sharing a song with someone, finding common ground in lyrics and music.
Poetry: The way I understand this life. The artist way I can make sense of my emotions while processing the questions I have about how life unfolds. By writing poetry I understand myself more. By studying the art form I become better at writing, but also thinking, which allows me to come to terms with both the joys and sorrows of this life. Poetry also allows me to build connections with other people, other artists, other poets. I do not trust many people, but I trust poetry.
Real: My word for this year. This might be the hardest word for me because I do not show the real me to too many people besides in my poetry and other writings. The reason for this blog post is me trying to live by my word. At the moment I am skeptical that I can live up to it in this world that is quick to destroy anyone that tries to be real.
Writing: Poetry is my first love, but I wrote my first short story in fifth grade. I have been blogging for decades now. Writing, in all forms, gives me a sense of being. In a way it allows me to be the real me. Writing is like praying for me, even at this moment I have my “Writing” playlist going, I am pondering questions of the past, considering a few future opportunities I have and feeling some strong emotions that encompass a broad range – I am living.
If you are a faithful reader of my blog you know I write a lot about being a father, but this blog post will be written as a son. And I have no idea where it will go. All I know is that I need to write something to help deal with finding out today that my biological father has passed away.
There are so many emotional elements that I am processing right now.
The first is dealing with the third death in less than a year. The harsh reality that our time here is limited and unknown. But I’m going to leave this topic for another day.
This post is about me as a son. Of spending most of my life dealing with the question of why I was never important enough for either of my parents to love me, to raise me, to guide me in this life. And now I won’t have the chance to ask my father… or as any son deeply desires, to know if he was proud of me.
A blog post is not enough space to tell my whole story. To bring forth the pain his absence created in my life and does still to this day. And I am scared of the feelings I will have tomorrow.
He never saw me play football in high school or in college. He has never seen his six grandchildren. I never had my father to ask advice from. He lived his life as if I wasn’t here.
And yes, I know that some of you are asking why I didn’t reach out to repair the relationship. First, a single blog post can not cover the craziness of my younger years. The alcohol and drug use my parents partook in, living with them with their new wife or husbands, moving from city to city. As I grew older, I understood how I was seen as a burden at times or other times simply forgotten by both of my parents.
And as I started a family, worked at being a good dad, I became even more angry at both of my parents because I did a good job of being a dad. Yes, it was hard at times, I have sacrificed for them, but I am proud of my kids. And that deep rooted question grew even more in my heart.
Why couldn’t my parents love me? Why wasn’t I worth their time?
There was a moment when my father and I reconnected for a brief second. We saw each other in person (a crazy story) and a few letters were sent back and forth but in the end it was clear that nothing had changed. I wasn’t a son he wanted to be a father to (he had another family). So I went on living my life, never having the question answered.
But I am his son. And it hurts to even think about what could have been, maybe what should have been.
I believe all children, but especially sons, just want to know that their father is proud of them. Sadly, now, I will never know. I am left believing he didn’t care… and that hurts the most.
Not to rush forward through my days. But yes I’m ready to go through the ritual of counting down the last seconds of 2023 and celebrating the idea of a new year, a new beginning.
This is not a post about living each day to its fullest, or some other motivational cliché that sometimes leads people to a false sense of reality.
This post is acknowledging the fact that the seasons of our lives can be filled with highs and lows… making for a gray year.
I started to tear up Christmas shopping last week. We were looking for gifts from my dad, and out of habit I said, “This can be from Grandma and Grandpa Hudson,” as I held up a book for one of my daughters. My throat locked up as I looked at my wife, suddenly holding back tears that wanted to run. (For any new readers, I lost my mom this summer… my wife lost her mom in September.)
There have been other low points, competing at poetry slams, rejection emails and other small nicks at my confidence as a poet and writer that add up.
There have been some cool moments, too. Published my book, While Death Waits, in October. I completed every challenge I set for myself this year. I’ve laughed with students and family. Read some great books. I have shared ideas with you, reader, through this blog. Been a guest on two podcasts this year. Plus, Dante and I have faithfully produced our podcast all year.
There were some good days.
But as a year, 2023 was gray.
Life is like that. And I think we hinder ourselves by trying to cover up or ignore the low points. When we don’t recognize the dark days, or try to fill them with color, we miss the opportunity to grow, to feel a depth of our lives that can strengthen us in so many different ways. We gain strength when we deal with heartbreak. We understand ourselves and life better by embracing the hurt. That understanding allows us to live that moment, but also the happy moments with more depth, more understanding, more appreciation.
It is not easy though. There were a lot of gray days.
It is all Connected 