Life Goes On!!

So here it is, to the day, exactly one month since my father took leave from us (me, mom, family, friends, the world in general) to go on another journey. It's has not been an easy month, to say the least - without a doubt, one of the worst times of my life. I am taking this opportunity, actually, forcing myself while I have this free time, to sit down and write. Sometimes, one of the hardest things to do in the world when you know you've got something inside of you that needs to released, is to face a blank piece of paper - no matter a comedian, screenwriter, rapper, poet, songwriter, author - or even a son that must find his own way to grieve for his father. I guess this is my way. While facing a blank piece of paper can be one of the hardest things in the world, for anyone in this position, one of the best things to do is, to face a blank piece of paper. Kind of deep if you really think about it. They say people in my position run the gammut of emotions from unacceptance, to sadness,to anger, etc. etc. As for me, I guess the best way for me to explain how I feel is mostly just weird. A kind of weird that arises from feeling empty, and from that feeling empty, not really knowing how else to feel. Because of that "emptiness" feeling, I do realize that I have been shaken in a couple ways - in the ability to pray right now, and the intention to write, and perform. Forcing myself to sit down and write, to write about anything, is my way of jumping back in the saddle for the latter I guess. As for the aforementioned, let's just say, faith shaken, not broken. I am sure I will get back to the place I was before. Time eclipses human emotion as countless people have been reminding me at this time. I almost feel that what God wants me to take from this, is a lesson in humility. So here it is. I've pretty much for the last month, by my own accord, have temporarily withdrawn from the world, and now it is time for me to reconnect - again by my own accord. It is time for me to return, and going back to work, whatever work is to any particular individual, is part of getting back and returning. This Friday is my first day back to work since... Not necessarily looking forward to doing that. But that has nothing to do with any kind of grief. Most days, before this situation, I wasn't looking forward to going to work anyway :-) But I'm sure that there are a lot of people that abide in the way I feel. Who's wit me?...Anyway, this past Sunday, I went out apartment shopping with a friend and fellow colleague. We're trying to find an apartment together and roommate. Dave just happens to be a white guy of Jewish faith. Not to say that all Jewish people have money, because all Jewish people don't have money. To make a broad, sweeping statement like that, is like saying that all black people are athletically inclined. I'm living proof to discredit that statement. But I just happen to decide to roommate with the one Jewish guy that's actually broker than ME! It can be cool though to have white friends, but it's also funny to have white friends ESPECIALLY if you're black. It's just interesting to see how some can think impractically, DESPITE sub-par means. I guess some things are just EXPECTED when you're white. He's a cool dude though. Let's just say we happened on to something more within our financial feasibility. Wish us the best of luck. I can only hope that keffa luva's credit will carry us to the promised land - if not, I may just be able to pull REALLY ORIGINAL material from this. Also, I got a phone call yesterday for a job. Not just another job. A real career want. Actually, it is not yet a job offer, but rather an audition. An audition to act in Kaiser Permanente's Theater Program. Perform shows for kids, and for the benefit of the community, and get paid for it like a regular job. Let me say that again. Perform, AND get paid for it?! No, I don't need any more details, just tell me where to sign! Get me this job, and I'll name my first born, first, middle, last, Kaiser Theater Program! This could be a possible career jolt. At the very least, a NICE line entry on my resume. Needless to say, I want to nail this audition. I don't care who I have to embody, Denzel, Bobby D, Pacino-hell Jamie Foxx as a blind man! We'll see how it goes. I can only think, or hope to think, that these two things are a small indication that my father is indeed watching out over me. I know regardless of what happens with the two, he is watching over me anyway. But I wouldn't think twice about giving back both opportunities, and a couple more, for one last conversation with my father.

The Devil WILL Cry!!

What I am about to write, is the hardest thing I've ever had to write, or even had to dwell on. I've never at all expected for this journal to ALWAYS contain hilarity, funny points of view of the world as seen through my eyes, or sharp wit on social commentary. I'm not really sure yet of what I expect to find here with this journal - maybe myself. And this particular journal entry is not at all intended to be about me, but before I have to say what I have to say, I feel I need to be understood on how I feel, what goes on inside my head at times, and it may come off sounding like it's all about me. The fact of the matter is that, though a comedian, there are LOTS of times where I don't feel like being funny, because I feel like I am ALWAYS fighting against some thing. I understand that this is not at all uncommon among comedians. We find our funny on the stage, and are fighting something most times, off. There is a line out of a scene in Godfather Part III, that in my mind, encapsulates my existence thus far ..."Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in...!!" If you know anything about or have seen that movie, of course that line is all about one man's seemingly inescapable destiny of forever being tied to his family's business of organized crime. For me, it just means that I should have learned by now that I should never get comfortable with things going right in my life. Because it just seems to me, that just when I seem to be getting things right in my life for the second, third, fourth, fifth time, something else always comes along to set me back. I'm always trying to do the waterdance, and this time I got too comfortable with staying afloat. So what?! Everyone's got problems right? Life happens! But it seems the devil has been putting in overtime with me. Honestly, sometimes I feel that he has it in for me to be hurt, in order to break my will and very being - and that I must persevere out of spite, if nothing else. However, whatever hurt, malice, evil intent that he meant for me and my family, he was able to accomplish with the loss of my father, Franklin Delano Reese, Sr. this past March. There aren't words in the english language that could even begin to describe the emptiness, confusion, and futility left with you, when someone of your blood, and especially blood that happens to be that of your hero, your idol, is forever silenced - and WAY too soon.

The last time I saw my father alive, was last October. It's never possible to know when you will see someone for the last time. I can deal with the fact that October was the last time I saw my father. What I can't deal with, is the fact that when I saw my father for the last time, I never got to tell my father "Thanks! Thanks for Everything, Dad!" Thanks for making me lucky, and being a dad that was there, when many other fathers weren't. Thank you for being a provider. Thanks for your love and protection. Thanks for doing a hell of job of raising a kid, often sick in childhood, and bringing him into manhood. Thanks for wisdom and lessons. Thanks for supporting hopes and dreams. Thanks for teaching me how to tie my shoes, how to tie a tie, how to drive a car. Thanks for all the asswhoopings. Thanks for memories. Thanks for the sacrifices - because I do know that you made some for the sake of your children. I won't forget all that you did, and all that you were - a man of character, integrity, strength and simplicity. Again, words can't do justice, but to me, he was my dad. All the meaning that could ever exist with the relationship between a father and son, was there with my father, and then some.

So I feel it is incumbent upon me to let people, even if only one person, know something about this great man that this world in no longer able to know. Though I don't think I could pen the words to do justice to this man's memory, one of the very last acts I can do for him is to try... One of six children to Herbert Reese, Sr. and Lillie Mae Reese, he was born and raised in Washington D.C. He spent most of his life in D.C., and his days as an adolescent, could probably be accurately described as "Cooley High" - hanging with neighborhood friends, playing basketball in Chuck Taylor's, coming of age during the Motown sound of the 60's. He would graduate from Eastern High School, and later, would serve his country in the United States Army. He would meet and marry my mother, and eventually have two kids - my brother Franklin Reese, Jr. and me. He would later become a graduate from UDC as an English major. For most of his career, until he would retire, he would work in the government as a dedicated employee, for the Library of Congress. As you might imagine, working for thirty plus years for the Library of Congress, he would become a very familiar and friendly face among his colleagues, co-workers, and friends. He loved sports, was a huge fan of Muhammad Ali, and with the emergence of Tiger Woods in golf, had become a follower of the sport. He loved listening to Bob Marley, Billy Joel, Barbara Streisand and other artists and musicians that could earn him the title of "old school." He was an avid reader, which made him the intellectual he was. He was the kind of man that could go on Jeopardy and win. People came to him when they needed someone smart for the answer. He was a great husband, father, brother, uncle, friend, and many other things to many other people. He was proud, kind, giving, and one of the strongest black men anyone could ever know.

Things are unbelievable and unreal to me right now. I don't know how to make sense of things, and maybe to keep my sanity, it's best not to try. I guess I just wanted to be able to speak on behalf of my father - to speak on the man that he was, and the man that I hope to keep living, through me. I will miss expecting to hear his voice on the other end of the line when I call home from now on. A treasured keepsake is the last picture of me taken with my father (and mother) I will miss making more memories with my father - the very last memory with him, is of me saying goodbye - apologizing to him for not being able to see a grandson before he left, and promising to make the most of the life he laid the groundwork for. If I only become half the man that he was, then I know I will have kept that promise.

Forever in our hearts and minds dad, you will always be loved and missed....R.I.P.

Frankline Delano Reese, Sr.
January 15, 1944

March 26, 2006