A Father’s Legacy

Confession: I sometimes fall into the TikTok death scroll, typically for short bursts while sitting on the can. Recently, bursts have evolved. They’ve spilled outside of my white-tiled safe space into others that belong to my family. It’s not ok.

Other things have been shifting too. My journal has been hanging out with growing dust bunnies. My gratitude board is screaming for attention. Experimenting with how to make the perfect Manhattan has become an almost daily quest. I shaved off a perfectly good beard, leaving only a mustache (bad guys wear mustaches, and I’m not one of them). Skirmishes with my wife have become a bit more frequent, and it feels like we’re both starting to circle the wagons in preparation for a nasty fight.

“Something’s rotten in the state of…” Well… My head.

It’s getting to me; the never-ending workload, no time off, isolation, and constant caregiving. Pressure to be everybody’s everything, every time, every day is crushing. I’m caught in a loop of racing thoughts where the negative voices are coming through a bit louder than the good ones. Do I need a hug? Do I need medication? What the hell do I need?

I have no fucking clue! All I see is what I NEED to do.

This morning, TikTok brought me to tears. To Be A Man by Dax, a Hip Hop Country music smashup, popped up on my feed and kicked me in the guts. A quick Apple Music search pulled up the song and an unexpected extended version, including lyrics written and performed by random people struggling like me. Dax opened up his song and invited the world to join an important conversation and they did. He memorialised their words in a new recording and set it free. It’s ten minutes of soul-spilling that tells a story. Their story. My story. Your story?

Here is the remixed version:

I have zero regrets. I am grateful for my life and all treasures it’s gifted me. I understand my role and purpose. It is an honour to lift my family high enough to achieve their dreams. I don’t require appreciation or a thank you. Patience, understanding, and the occasional unprompted helping hand are more than enough.

My greatest wish is that when my eyes finally close, I can rest knowing that all the work and sacrifice was worth it.

I’ll figure it out; get off my knees, and jump back into the ring. What choice do I have?

Thanks for listening.

Join the conversation. It would be great to hear from you.