Over 15 years ago, I wrote a song with my stepfather. He passed away a year ago, and it still feels like yesterday. Even though I couldn't find the courage to go to his funeral, I miss him every single minute. Now, I'm 37 and I am but a ghost of what I was back in the day, both my health and my guitar playing skills are not the same, they got worse, life hits really hard and makes you sometimes abandon the things you like the most and the things where you used to be very good, well, capitalism, right, passion won't put food into your plate.
Three days ago, I celebrated another birthday. Last year, I faced serious health issues and was even declared dead by the doctor during surgery. --To the unknown nurse who didn't give up on me, thank you so much. I can never repay you for saving my life when the doctor had already abandoned hope. I may never know your name or meet you again, but thank you deeply.--
Looking back on my life, I remembered everything that shaped me into the person I am today - the hardships, the connections, the countless times I wanted to give up but kept pushing forward. Despite it all, I'm still here, and that's a true gift.
If I could go back in time, I wouldn't change much. But I would express my love and appreciation more openly to those I've lost along the way. To my friends who succumbed to despair, I would offer both hands instead of just one. I would cherish every moment with them, reminding them how much they meant to me.
My stepfather was one of those special people. Even though my mom broke up with him when I was 15, he remained my role model - a truly great man with a huge heart. My only hope is to live up to be at least half the man he was.
Thank you again for composing that song with me, I've been playing it every single day for the couple months since you passed, so I would never forget how to play it. I'm truly sorry I lost the lyrics - they would have been the most precious item I could inherit from you, but I lost it. You had a unique way with words, and your talent for poetry is something I likely learned from you.
Lastly, I apologize for not taking the best care of the guitar I inherited from uncle. The road trip and time I spent on the streets took a toll on it. But I'm saving up for a new guitar, so I can retire this one and treat it as the family heirloom it deserves.
Please never forget how much I loved you, and still do. Thank you for everything. I (hope) I will see you on the other side.
(Fernando M.)
