Ode To My Father

I wrote this poem below today in about 5 minutes. It wasn't planned. It just happened.

A little backstory: My father died of a drug overdose when I was four years-old. It was a tragic accident, some said. Some people just couldn't handle their drugs, others mumbled.

When I was sixteen, my father's mother called me to tell me she was dying. She had some things of my father's that she had wanted me to have before she passed. My grandmother handed me an orange leather suitcase and told me to go through it when I got home.

Inside were my dad's high school yearbook, his bronzed baby shoes, a few Polaroid photographs, some of my stuffed animals from when I was a baby and a sealed envelope with my name on it.

The letter was a note written to me by my father explaining that he wasn't a good dad, couldn't be a proper role model and I would be happier without him. He described his death as planned. It was a suicide. Since no one was with him at the time of his death, no one had known exactly what had happened to him. But there in my tiny dormered bedroom in the two bedroom Cape Cod in which I grew up; on that sunny afternoon when I was a sophmore in high school, I found out the truth.


Ode To My Father

You were born out of love
But that love quickly waned
A tumultuous childhood stole your smile
You grew up, you fell in love
And soon a child had his child

You played the part, you did your job
You tried to make it work
‘Two children raising a child?’
I say now, with a smirk

Your anger, regret and angst quickly made you sick
Your disease soon overtook you
And there was no turning back

There was no high that was high enough
That could help you free your mind
From the demons of your past
Looming close behind

You tried to be good, you tried to be there
But you just couldn’t do it
You said I’d be better without you
And you made quick work of it

A father should be there in mind, body and spirit
You took your life for “my sake” instead
Though I didn’t want to hear it

Leaving is a selfish act though you claim it selfless
For there is a hole in my heart that cannot be filled
That feeling on occasion is relentless

I must forgive to get me through
Around my mind it’s hard to bend
Why you thought I didn’t need you
I can never comprehend

We all have struggles we’re not unique
But it’s in how we deal with them
That’s why I choose to stay, face and fight with the best of them

My daughter is now 7 with smiles upon her face
Because her father chose to heal instead and occupy her space

The most powerful thing, Dad, is that history is not repeating in this very important case

My Meeting With Usher

In 2004, just after my marriage dissolved, as a newly single woman trying to make my $3,700 per month Manhattan rent any way I could, I became a singing, acting, modeling, make-up artist. I piece-mealed a living. It worked. I enjoyed the freedom, the flexibility and the chaos working all those jobs provided me.

The year-long Enrique Iglesias tour I was on had just ended and instead of singing for 110,000 people in London or on TV in front of millions on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, you could have found me singing at weddings, bar-mitzvahs or any clubs or restaurants in NYC that would agree to pay me. On my days off from performing, I took to driving to Long Island to help my mother by working in her chocolate shop. I miss that chocolate. My mom closed the doors to her confectionary empire about 4 years ago. 

The tour manager from Enrique's camp with whom I had become friendly called me up one day and invited me to an Usher concert at The Garden. "Usher? Who's that?" I was so busy working during that time trying to scramble up an income that you wouldn't have been able to catch me chilling out on the drive to LI listening to the radio, bopping along to the latest tunes on Z-100. Instead I was on the phone making deals or racking my brain to figure out the next step in my life. And since I worked nights and weekends as a singer, I couldn't make it to the bars or clubs so I lived under a rock, pretty much. I really didn't know anything about this Usher dude but I wanted to support my friend and his new 'little tour job thingy,' so I said yes. 

I was promised front row seats but when I got there I was told that Naomi Campbell, at the last minute, had purchased every seat in the first three rows of Madison Square Garden. Apparently Naomi and this "Usher person" were dating at the time. The venue was sold out. There wasn't a seat in the house; a mishap that won me the rare privilege of watching the show from the stage. The feeling that night was electric. My viewing area was actually a 1'x1' section of wooden floor in "the wings", a theater term used to describe the sides of the stage behind the curtain. I stood there for the first few minutes of the show, which was mind-blowing, when I was suddenly nudged. I looked over my shoulder for a brief second but then turned back to watch the show. A moment later I got a shove; I mean a really big shove out of the way. When I looked next to me to see who could be so rude, it was none other than Diddy. Diddy, who, despite his clout, had an even smaller section than 1 square foot  in which I had to stand, so he stole some of my prime space. It was my second time being that close to him. You can check out my first Diddy meeting on my blog. 

After about 5 minutes of trying to ignore the smell of too-strong cologne and enjoy the show, I took notice of my surroundings. Diddy's entire entourage had slowly seeped in. They completely infringed upon my space and I was muscled out of the way. My tour manager friend noticed my predicament, grabbed me by the hand, ran me out front to the second row of seats on the floor in front of the stage and said, "Here. Is that better? Naomi and her camp all cancelled. No one's showing up. You have the whole three rows to yourself, Darlin.'"

And there I was. And there he was. It was me and Usher, Usher and Me. I should preface this by mentioning that I sang at Madison Square Garden the previous year and the way the lights hit your eyes, you can only really see the first two or three rows in the center on the floor and since I was the only person sitting in that entire section...He was supposed to be looking out at Naomi Campbell and her 80 or so friends but they "flaked out" at the last minute and just I was there instead. It was me and Usher, there on that night; virtually alone. An intimate concert pour deux. I felt so uncomfortable. Because all he could really see was me, he made eye contact throughout the whole show. His presence is strong and his stare intense. And even though I have years of musical and dance training, I was suddenly feeling like this awkward white girl with no rhythm because I didn't know the music.

Usher was and still is very handsome and he commanded the stage like Michael Jackson. He owned it. His demeanor was smooth, sexy, strong and he sang and danced his ass off. Every good performer uses crowd participation by turning their microphone toward their loyal fans so they can sing along with the music. Usher likes to do this a lot; I would imagine that singing and dancing for the entire show gets tiresome so a little help from the audience is probably necessary. Since I had never heard any of his music before in my life,  every time he did that, I sank in my chair a little deeper, nodded and politely smiled. He looked so deflated. He was almost becoming angry; perhaps not at me per se but at Naomi and then at his management for not filling the front few rows with, well, at least fans when his girlfriend blew him off. I know from experience, the energy a performer gets from the crowd is so crucial to the performance. I totally ruined his night. 

After the show, my friend took me backstage to introduce me to Usher. I could tell he was a little pissed. He was wondering why I came. His mind was racing. He was speechless. Then he said, "I saw you out there. In front, right? That was you?" I said, "Oh, yes that was me. I'm so sorry that I don't know your music. My friend Bill told me you are really talented and I should check out your show so I came to support him. Great job, man. I really enjoyed it." Usher responded "I could tell" in a sarcastic tone. I am pretty sure I was the only woman Usher shook hands with that night who didn't at least almost faint. 

Usher, I'm sorry for that night. I'm more sorry about your girlfriend. And thank goodness you're not still dating her. Good move!