Hard Life | SAULT

I think my dad and I would have liked this album.

I think we would have listened to it together.

I wonder what my Dad would think about all of this - everything going on. I’d think he’d be happy, concerned, angry, relieved, hopeful, and tired. Like me…but even more so.

It was weird going through all of his stuff when he died - all the diplomas, the awards, the letters, the journals. To see his life through documentation - the accomplishments, the struggles, the recognition, the humor.

In so many ways, my Dad’s life was hard but I don’t think he saw it that way. Or if he did, he didn’t share that hardness with me. Instead he shared his humor, his love for sci-fi, his value for education, his love for singing in the car, his “fuck it” approach to the hard things in life, and his prepensity for getting lost in deep convos.

I’ve been annoyed with all the texts people have been sending me today. I know they’re coming from a beautiful place. But they feel like an intrusive reminder of something I think about everyday.

It’s funny how it parallels to what’’s been going on - all these people reaching out to see if i’m “ok” with everything going on…when I’ve been effected by this racism every day of my life. Like somehow Father’s Day has more significance than every other day sine he died - when there’s a moment I remember I can’t call him even though his number is still in my phone.

Father’s day has never meant that much to me. But Sundays did. Because that’s when I could call my Dad…and talk about our lives…and share things we loved…like music.

I probably would have shared this one. And I think he would have liked it.