This one is for you Jochem
My father was the coolest father in the world. He was so cool, that he took us to the school where he was an art teacher, just to make things. He was so cool that I did not mind that he was the supervisor at our high school discos. He was so cool that he was invited to parties I organised after I left home to study journalism in Zwolle. He was so cool that he took me and what little I possessed to Scotland and was singing Hotel California with the less than average entertainment on the ferry. My father also passed away from causes related to alcoholism and I do not think I ever accepted his death. I know that this Running Thoughts contribution will not be the most popular one and it has taken me two months to write. But this time I decided to be courageous and write just for me.
The death of my father
I wanted to write about my father, because I remembered his ‘deathaversary’, when I was running. I was many days late. And that is okay, because he would have hated his death to be remembered and I would rather celebrate life anyway. The death of my father was very difficult for me. I went through all sorts of phases of grief, but acceptance is still not one of them. And his funeral was more than 6 years ago. I was there when he died and it was a very awkward moment. Once it is over, you really do not know what to do. My father had been sick for a while, we knew it was coming, but still it hits you as if you never prepared for it. I went back to Serbia, the years passed and I still think about him every day.
Letting your guards down
My father is very much part of my running journey, because every time I am out, I think of him. That is partly because of the music I listen to. Music was an enormous part of my relationship with my father and that is why I am still unable to listen to the Top 2000. Another reason why my father pops into my running thoughts is because running is like meditation. It opens your mind and the mental guards you raise during daily life temporarily go down. I block my father out of my thoughts most of the time, but when I am running, he finds his way in. It is okay that way, because when the exercise is over, the walls go back up and the running thoughts become a distant memory.
Do I want to accept?
To me my father is still very much alive. I think that is partly because I have lived abroad for so long and we always had a long-distance relationship. We did not speak often, but I knew he was there if I needed him and that he would answer the phone if I called. Things have not changed much, apart from the fact that the phone is not answered anymore. It feels like he is that friend that you mean to call for a long time but you never do. Somehow, all of a sudden it is a year since you heard from them and you have no idea where the time went.
That is how I see things with my father. I have some really good friends who I do not speak to often, but they are there and will always be my friends. Just like that, my father is also there and will always be my father. I do not want to accept his death, because that means that very thin connection I still feel is gone. Because of that I happily keep him alive in my running thoughts.
Running away
It is strange how someone you want to be like for so long, turns into an example of something you want to avoid. I remember the moment when I decided to start exercising very well. I was overweight, drinking every night and sneaking in a few too many cigarettes again. I was not happy and it had just become habit. That day I made the choice to turn things around and become healthy. That is exactly what I did and what my father could not. He kept hanging on to this persona which he thought made him cool. That persona would disappear without alcohol. He could not face the world without and he played this role until the end.
Do what makes you happy
My father was no saint. He did things that I still cannot understand or approve. But what my father was good at was impressing people and people automatically liked him. He also did exactly what he wanted to, no matter the consequences. That is why he was walking around Bolsward in the sixties with friends and a record player and speakers. He told me that it was essential to keep the record player straight, or the song would skip. He would put the speakers in front of people’s letterboxes and did not have a care in the world apart from being cool. If he taught me one important lesson, that is to follow my dreams and to do exactly what I want to do. Adios Lounge by Thelonious Monster and Thom Waits sums him up perfectly, giving me advice like he used to do so well.
Don't let nobody go there for you
Don't be satisfied with a second-hand life
Don't let nobody stifle or bore you
Handle your troubles or take on your strife
Don't let nobody live your life for you
Not your friends, not your kids, no not even your wife
If you want to know where the rainbow ends
It's you who’s got to go there and find it my friend