The photograph had been with him for as long as he could remember. A smile slowly crept onto his face as he examined the picture of he and his father walking hand in hand. He still remembered how cold it was outside, and how Mom had bundled him up from head to toe making him squirm with displeasure. But, he really didn’t care; he was just happy to be spending time with his dad. As he looked at the picture, he thought about how happy he was on that day, and he remembered…
It was a long time before he smiled or was happy again. The day that picture was taken was the last day he saw the man he knew as his dad. It was like he just disappeared. At 4-years old he could not understand, and no explanation eased the ache in his heart. He often thought, “I should never have let go of daddy’s hand, then maybe he would not have left me.” He watched his mother’s life spiral downward until she was no longer capable of caring for herself or him. Then came the shuffling back and forth between relatives, the abuse, and he could even recall sleeping in someone’s van, until child services stepped in, and he became a case number.
There was one thing that provided comfort during those days – music! He loved music; it was the only thing that eased the pain. He would hear melodies in his head and was able to sit at a piano and play with no training at all. Making music was his dream, and it saved his life.
Running his hand across the now worn picture he had kept all these years, he thought about his life and where he was now. The dream had fueled his soul and propelled him forward out of a dark place. He was now one of the most sought after music producers in the industry. He had a beautiful wife who had just delivered their firstborn son, and he had everything he desired in life.
The ache that once took his breath away, was now a faint sadness for the memory of a man he loved so dearly as a little boy.
Holding his newborn son’s tiny hand in his own, he made a vow...to always be there.