06/22/2026
It’s nostalgic to measure life in summers. My father was just shy of seven decades worth. It’s been six summers since he went celestial. So much of what I have come to enjoy about life I owe to him, his appreciation of history, music, friendships, and living in the moment.
June encapsulates so much of my connection to him. Father’s Day and Juneteenth, the celebration of Black Music Month, and it also being the month—16 summers ago—that I made D.C home to be closer to him. This makes the summer solstice for me, soul stirring to say the least.
Sharing music is how we kept our bond strong despite distance and time; a tradition me, my brother, and cousin continue. From riding round Philly with him and my uncle, while we all as kids in the back seats emulated them jamming out to The Gap Band, Kool & The Gang, Teddy Pendergrass, Freddie Jackson and so much more on our way to the Plateau. My pops stayed hip too! He was a big DMX fan; my brother and I would get a kick out of him rapping the adlibs at the top of his lungs, ha! And he was equally impressed when he discovered I was getting into Gil Scott-Heron.
My memories of him come as frequently as the morning, and my mourning is as frequent as the sunsets that follow. Maybe the grief will subside someday if I am blessed to become a father, a dad, a teacher, a protector, a provider, an elder.
The last slide is a photo I was able to share with my dad just before he passed. This was a win I never fully shared or took the time to celebrate as the loss I endured was far greater than anything I could ever imagine. Somehow, I believe that once my dad saw this and listened to me talk about it, he knew I would be just fine without him. He stopped fighting, he let go, confident that I had truly made D.C. my home like he did so many years ago.
As the sun has set on yet another Father’s Day, I know my dad is happy to see I am doing just fine without him. I just want him to know that life would be so much sweeter with him.
💌
