One of the most beautiful memories of my life is watching the DVD of Simon & Garfunkel: The Concert in Central Park with my father when I was a teenager. Tonight is the first time I've watched it in over two decades.
Today is his birthday. He would have been 66 years old. I commune with him through the music he loved. My best memories of him are tied to his deep passion for music—visits to record shops, favorite albums he gave me, concerts we watched together.
I have talked about him often over the years, particularly on my podcast, because I have wanted to bear witness to his brief life—he was only 45 when he passed—and to hold on to him in some way.
I think, more than anything, I have needed to say that he existed. He mattered. I loved him. He was taken from me too soon, but we existed together for a time. That time is gone. He and my mother are gone. I will never have them again.
I often feel like I am not fully here. In my mind, I am still with them in my childhood home, safe and whole. I go through every memory, trying to conjure them once more. In my mind, me and him are watching this concert together and nothing has been lost.
I am thankful every day that I knew those two precious people. I am thankful they loved me. I will spend the rest of my days mourning them and remembering them and trying to honor them. Their love keeps me alive.
"Slip Slidin' Away (Live at Central Park)" by Simon & Garfunkel
She said a good day
Ain't got no rain
She said a bad day's when I lie in bed
And think of things that might have been