My dad played the drums in high school, in a local Alexandria band and was a proud member of the US 8th Army Division Band. Music was a major part of his life and, as a result, music became a huge part of mine. As a young child, I remember sitting in the living room listening to his favorite vinyls, singing along to the lyrics on the sleeve until I learned them, while dad “played” the drums on the arm of the sofa, his legs or in the air. He (and mom) were always at every one of my school concerts cheering me on as if it were the Super Bowl. In high school, I surprised him when we sang “My heart belongs to Daddy” and I grabbed him out of the audience, brought him on stage with me and proceeded to sing to him. Dad and I would love going to live concerts together. We couldn’t wait to tell the other about a new song we heard on the radio because we knew the other would love it too, especially when there was an incredible key change moment! I remember when my maternal grandmother was nearing the end of her journey and we were making arrangements. Dad and I spent hours picking out the “right” songs and “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me was THE perfect one. Lyrics were so powerful to both of us. Music soothed our souls, excited us, made us cry, brought back memories….some even changed our immediate lives and made a lifetime mark on us. Music was a connection from day one and still remains so.
It was only fitting that I find THE right music for my dad’s last celebration. I grew up in a Baptist family where funerals were sadder than they needed to be often because of often depressing hymns. Dad and I agreed that this celebration was just that-a time of joy remembering his incredible life! I had downloaded specific songs to play on repeat during the viewings and as friends were being seated. Mom and I knew the meaning of each to dad and that was a comfort to hear. But THE most important song I chose to be played at the most critical moment was “Home” by Chris Tomlin. Unfortunately, Dad had never heard it but he loved Chris and we even saw him live together once.
The only thing that rivaled my dad’s love of music was his faith. My dad fought many battles in his life-Vietnam and prostate cancer being the ones people know. He NEVER gave up. My dad did not know the meaning of defeat or giving up. Even to his last breath. That last year of the effects of chemo ravaged his body and the last seven days were just devastating. He was fighting to stay. I was pleading for him to go “home”.
Home. But he was home in Hospice care, right? Yes, and we were grateful. But it was time for him to go back “home”….where the streets are golden, where every chain is broken..where every fear is gone…where he belongs….
As the service was ending, I made sure that “Home” was played and from that first beat, the tears rolled but the smile was even bigger on my face. His freedom song. No one would get the importance of this to me……until someone did. I saw movement to my left out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look and I saw my soul sister, my warrior, Melissa…..stomping her feet to the beat….like I was….singing every word….like I was…raising her head and hands to the heavens….like I was…..smiling with tears rolling down her face….like I was. This is exactly the way Dad would have wanted this to go. I will never forget that moment….that heart feeling.
From that moment on, there isn’t a time I hear that song that I don’t think of that moment, sing at the top of my lungs (through the tears) and text Melissa to tell her. We will forever be connected through that song and my dad.
The last few days have been melancholy. Not deep despair but continued gratitude surrounded by sadness. This morning, I woke up and waited for 7:38, the moment my hero became free. I then walked upstairs, looked at the ocean and played “Home”. I immediately began stomping my feet, clapping to the beat, singing at the top of my lungs and smiling. His freedom song. Home will always be Dad’s freedom song and I will always be grateful that he instilled his love of music in me.
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