I remember feeding Dylan when he was an infant, and just about every time he would get to the bottom of a bottle, he would keep sucking. I would pull the bottle out of his mouth and tell him, “Hold on, Boy. You’re sucking wind.” Or just outright quote the Superchunk song I got it from: “You’ve been sucking wind so long it makes you feel full.” Still strikes how these little things come back to me once in a while. I hope they never stop.

• Last time I saw Superchunk,
  I was with Dylan.

  

  

  

  

  And I wish he was with me this time:
  

February 2018

Stage: Anger
Again.

As society and the justice system decides that criminals have served their time and the victims should be left to serve the criminals’ sentences themselves instead, we have no choice but to live with our sentence.

Lawyers.

“It’s the privilege of mass delusion.” Fucked Up

Four years — A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of Dylan.

“The ocean washed over your grave” Car Seat Headrest

The system has let me down. Justice must be designed to line the pockets of the lawyers and maybe maintain some sick kind of minimal population control, but it definitely has nothing to do with impact of crime on some upstanding members of society. Sentences are handed down and cast aside at the whim of a broken system.

There isn’t a day that I don’t think of Dylan.

“The ocean washed over your grave”

Let’s legalize all the drugs before we understand what makes somebody continue to turn to them even when they destroy other people’s lives. Seems that we have lost track of the things that are really important.  Or even what the goals and objectives were supposed to be in our broken, failed rehabilitation system.  It doesn’t matter now.

A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of Dylan.

When I have finished serving my sentence, you take whatever remains of me here:

Take me here as a huge, swirling snarl of musical noise and chaos takes place on the surface, while my crumbs descend into the peaceful, cool water to mingle with the crumbs of those I miss.

A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of Dylan.
“The ocean washed over your grave”
A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of Dylan.
“The ocean washed over your grave”
A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of Dylan.
“The ocean washed over your grave”

I love you, Dylan, and really fucking miss you. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of you.

Stage: Depression
Again.

I was cleaning up out in the garage one day, when I came upon Dylan’s first guitar amp. It was still labeled as it was after the last time he used it playing a talent show in junior high. Sometimes I would really get into the things he was playing and this one such time. As he was practicing for the show, I would tweak all the settings on this little amp. I was more thrilled about the prospect of making a statement that Dylan was as I kept telling him “play it again”, so I could tweak it some more. I would ask him, “that sounds better, right?” Most the time, he didn’t have an opinion or would quietly utter a “yeah.” Once all my amateurish tweaking was done, I cranked it up as far as I could before it started distorting beyond what was intentional. Once satisfied, I created the label with the settings and his name. Then, I told him, “this is where you leave it. Ok?” “Ok”, he said quietly. I’m pretty sure, I was just making him nervous while I was excited to see how he did.

Sure enough, he went up there, made sure the settings were as labeled and played. At first, I think he was suprised by how loud it sounded and might have had an impulse to run over to the amp and turn it down. Probably way down. But he kept going. Despite his clear nervousness and stoic posture during his performance, he killed it. He did a great job. He really did. And he put up with my input as well.

I miss you, son.

A couple nights ago, you were in my dream.

You worked at a mall very much like our local mall. I was there to pick you up after work. You were sitting on a kids jungle gym. Your feet were dangling off a small bridge. Under one of the ends of the bridge there was a special area. It was a small, soundproof, transparent, plastic bubble. Inside, though we could barely see in because of all the scratches on the inside and outside of the plastic, was a drum kit. You were waiting to get you turn, but some kid was monopolizing them.

I told you, “Come on. Let’s go.” You said you just wanted to thrash around for a while. Blow off some steam. “Oh, me too, boy. Me too.”, I thought. I put my hands on your shoulders from behind, as we walked. With a smile, I whispered in your ear, “I know someone.” You looked at me, as I caught up to your side. Then I was hugging you and telling you “I miss you so much. I miss you so much”

I miss you so much.

Mostly I feel like there is big hole in my life. And no matter what new experiences or accomplishments I achieve or stuff I try to fill that hole with seems to make that hole smaller in the slightest.

Oh, how I do miss you, Dylan.

“If I show you my eyeballs
Maybe you could see that I’ve been hurtin’ inside”
A. Savage

Most times it is just a little something that reminds me of Dylan. A quick glance at a picture on the wall. An abandoned drafting board. A dusty old amp. Or a memorable CD sitting atop a shelf untouched for years at this point. But the news of Chester Bennington of Linkin Park ending his own life made it impossible not to think of Dylan. Dylan and I talked about the band a lot. I really liked their first two albums which were a little before he really developed his own taste in music. In fact, I remember when I told him that I had a copy of “Hybrid Theory”, after he had discovered the band, he was a bit surprised. He really liked the mash up album with Jay Z. He was going through a rap phase then, which was one of the great things about Linkin Park. They seemed to comfortably satisfy both the rap fans and rock fans. Indeed, it was a hybrid sound that really worked well for the band.

However, the greatest memory I have of Linkin Park was right around the time when Dylan really got into the band. “Minutes To Midnight” had been out and he loved the album. Both of us listened to it a lot, and talked about it. “The Little Things Give You Away” about hurricane Katrina sticks out right now. Every song seemed to grow on us as we listened to it more and more. But nothing could compare to “Bleed It Out”. A monster of a song with the great one two punch of Chester’s singing and Mike Shinoda’s rapping. It was, and still is, infectious. Great song. So, there would be a number of times when the family would be going somewhere, and sure as shit it seems that we would all agree on Linkin Park’s “Minutes to Midnight”. And when “Bleed It Out” came on, it was the closest we would ever come to our own family “Carpool Karaoke.” At the very least, all fours of us would be tapping our fingers or bobbing our heads, but most of the time at least two of us would be singing along to every word. Dylan was particularly proud when he was able to rap Mike’s part word for word. A really good memory of us as a family. All of us agreed, “Bleed It Out” was a fucking great song and “Minutes To Midnight” was our family album for quite a while. Chester Bennington and Linkin Park definitely made an impact on our family.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve taken my beating, I’ve shared what I’ve made
I’m strong on the surface, not all the way through” Linkin Park

Rest in peace now, Chester.

So many thoughts and feelings this long Memorial Day weekend. First, graduation. How many times did I hear the name Dylan called out when they announced the names of each graduating senior? Every single time reminding me of Dylan and his graduation. Every time reminding me that my own parents were in attendance for his, and were not for Marisa’s.

Then, we quickly moved into Marisa’s last dance competition weekend. A tradition that has been part of our lives for the past nine years. It is hard to believe it has been that long. A few of those long Memorial Day weekends were spent with Dylan. I have no idea how many times Dylan and I would walk up and down Downtown Disney. Just talking and people watching. Sitting in the plaza staring at the House of Blues. And waiting for the next dance time. It was hard to ignore that the House of Blues was no longer there this last time. A place both Dylan and I had been to to see musicians play, but never together.

No doubt it has been impossible to navigate through this period of our lives without reflecting on what we have endured during Marisa’s time in high school. It is difficult for me not to have my parents during this time as well. It is challenging not to recall what a tumultuous four years it has been. Amidst all this loss, so many milestones to celebrate, particularly for Marisa. Fours years of whipsaw emotions, and now a new beginning awaits.

We weren’t much on family portraits. I think one time we actually sat down with a photographer and had our picture taken. It never really came up. Or was always something when it did. What do we wear? I’m fat? What do we do with it? Etc. I don’t know if I necessary regret not having many, but I wish we had a couple more like this. At best, I think we have a couple of these types.

I have been thinking about Dylan a lot lately. I would like to know what words of wisdom he would impart upon his sister as she approaches high school graduation. She would listen to him. Would he tell her, “Mom and Dad were right. Listen to them.”? Would he tell her we were clueless? Would he tell her what she wanted to hear or would he just listen and nod in agreement when she expressed her uncertainty about her future?

It doesn’t matter, I just wish he was here for her now.

“Well I guess that’s why I’ve always
Got the blues”
Jesus and Mary Chain

Thinking of Dylan and Dad.

And now Mom as well.

I love you and will miss you Mom. I love you and miss you Dad. I love and miss you Dylan.

Februarys.

I decided to buy the discounted new Green Day album from Amazon the same day I was streaming a Colleen Green EP released earlier this year without really thinking. And then … I never considered Green Day an EMO band, but “Still Breathing” could be something straight from a Promise Ring album or a Jimmy Eat World album. So much so I had to look to see if it was in fact a cover of a EMO band song. As soon as I heard it, I thought of Dylan and a few conversations we had about EMO music. For a while he seemed to be fixated on the genre. I kept telling him that he shouldn’t look at music as a bunch of genres or boundaries. After all, somebody lumped Fall Out Boy into the same grouping as Promise Ring, Jawbreaker, Joan of Arc and American Football.

So many connections, I wondered if maybe Dylan made these choices for me to let me know he was still out there with us. Colleen Green, Green Day and EMO. Despite all kinds of things competing for a moment in my mind, this came to the front of the line. I remembered the year Dylan broke into a version of Green Day’s “Welcome To Paradise” in the middle of his Christmas recital song. A few mis-steps along the way. I think he was nervous. He liked playing their songs. I think mostly because they were easy to play.

Merry Christmas, Dylan. I miss you.

“I’m like a junkie tying off for the last time
I’m like a loser that’s betting on his last dime
Oh I’m still alive”
Green Day