New Beginnings

I had to let the last post breathe. It hurt to write; it hurt to feel; it just hurt.

This album was released on August 20th. It could not have come at a better time. It has allowed me to heal and feel. Cleo’s vulnerability in her lyrics and voice, along with the band, helped me.

Man, today I spoke with my old man, Don Julio. This is the first time I've spoken to him in about 6 to 8 years. The time is clear as mud. I've missed him. I've missed his laugh. Our inside jokes. His voice. I just missed my dad. He meant the world to me. Someone to look up to. Someone who provided me with guidance even though he was troubled. He's my dad. Imperfect.

Technology has made connecting with people outside of the country so easy. I remember having to use calling cards to speak to him. 25-minute cards were like $20! Back in the day, that felt like $100! Now, you just download WhatsApp, and it's all connected. So I reached out to him when I was in LA. My text was short but to the point. He immediately responded and was thankful for me reaching out. Thank you to my little sister for connecting us. He said it was the best thing that has happened to him in a long time. I said, "I'd like to talk to you on Friday. I'm going through a difficult breakup, and I would like some advice. I'd like to also connect with you about things I remember as a kid. I think those memories made me the way I am today.” He wasn't hesitant about it. He said, "Claro que si, my son.” That filled me up with joy. As well as the views of San Luis Obispo. A truly beautiful place.

Friday came, and he sent me one of those motivational texts that old parents send. I couldn't help but laugh. I called him at 1pm and it felt like we didn't miss a beat. He showed me around his home, a home I've been to. A home he was proud of. His home was not much, but it was his. His home had not changed from what I remember. He shared how he renovated his home, how he planted a garden and was proud of his Basil; he even showed me his turtles. He showed me his closet; I then immediately ran to my closet and showed him mine. We laughed because we color-code our clothes. I told him, “Aye man, you taught me this.” He cried. His influence in my life is all over me. I still use his chef’s knife when I cook. I repaired a couple of his old watches. I own a pair of Jordan 17s because it was the first shoe I remember him purchasing that I was influenced by. The way I organize my clothes in my drawers, that's him. The way I put freshly washed clothes in the bottom of my drawers, that's him. 

He tells me about his life; I tell him about mine: a divorce, co-parenting, work, and life in general. I spoke to him about the breakup and he was empathetic. He saw the hurt in my eyes. He heard the pain in my voice. He just said to keep my head up. It felt good to just be understood. He gave me some AWFUL advice. I called him out on it, and he understood. I’m not the type of guy that jumps from one thing to another. I explained to him who I am; granted, I grew so much since I was 18. He doesn’t know ME. The man I am today. The father I have become. The son I am. After showing him my closet, he asked to see the rest of the house. I don’t like giving tours of my home, but I did anyway. I shared all the renovation projects I had done before I moved in. I shared how you helped me make this house a home. How you were so involved in every step of the process. I tried to hold back my tears, but I couldn’t. I also shared my updated bathroom and what I accomplished there. He was so proud. He finally said it! He said, “I'm proud of you. I could have ever done anything like that. You're better than me, my son.” And in that moment I felt light. The words I've been wanting to hear since I was a teenager: “I'm proud of you.” That's it. The validation. The genuine joy of the fact that I am better than him. As a person, son, father, and lover. I am better than my dad. I feel that. 

We spoke for close to two hours. We laughed about Napoleon Dynamite, shared our Coldplay memories, and we both shared how we want to continue to talk. He asked about my kids and wanted to see pictures of them. Since our conversation, we've been texting back and forth. Nothing too serious. I did share my boundaries, and he is aligned with my needs. He wants a relationship with my kids and me. That alone is beautiful to hear.

So we'll see what happens.

Here's to putting this hurt to rest.

Peace