Tuesday, July 7, 2009


The 11 year old daughter of the worlds most famous music icon spoke at his funeral today, speaking about her "daddy". Said

"ever since I was born, Daddy has been the best father you can ever imagine. and I just wanted to say....I love much".

Then dissolved into tears, in the arms of her aunt.


Hearing that come from her, the same age my son was when his father chose to drink again and walk out on him. I could see the very real love she has for him. The intense sadness that the only parent she has ever known is gone forever. I cannot help but feel her pain. I have seen it in the eyes of my son for the last 5 years. The school events that Daddy didnt come to, the music recitals daddy never showed up for, the forgotten birthdays, holidays, all the daily, mundane, some important, some not so important events that are made memorial by sharing with your Daddy. Just the word Daddy.....makes me cry.

I havent heard Jackson call his father anything but "him" or refer to him by his first name in 5 years. The magical, love connection doesnt exist any longer. He chose to leave Jacksons life. Whether drunk or not, he chose it and it affected us all. That makes my heart break into a million little pieces. The loss of a parent, for a child, is life altering. When its death, it cant be helped....When its a choice......its unbearable, its wrong, it rips out my damn heart.
Jackson's father was an incredible father. Loving, nuturing, very involved, very devoted.

And then he wasn't. The man Jackson called Daddy disappeared. He didnt die in an emergency room. He died with breath still left in his body, but not in his life. He died in his spirit, not in his body. And as our spirits are attached through God, our spirit died too. We died in ou hearts and our soul. Except we found God and asked for help to be restored. He didnt. Hasnt. and the living death continues.

But we dont watch anymore. We dont wait. We move on. A day at a time. And we miss Daddy.


Seth M. Ward said...

I never really had a mother who cared for me biologically speaking.....

My step-mother was my mother to me.....and a year after my dad died, she stopped talking to me....

Why? Who knows.....

Pain is something that I have learned along time ago is always part of life. I guess it's just how we manage it all.

Be good to yourself.