vulnerable

5 Things I'm Keeping For My Kids

“You don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened.” - John Green

    You see, I’m not one for sentiments. I own very little, I’m quick to get rid of “non-essentials”, and am what most would consider a minimalist. Recently though, I’ve found myself holding onto things I would normally throw out. I am certain this has stemmed from meeting my father for the first time, so here are 5 things that I’m keeping for my son.

1. Every Old Notebook

    I’m lucky enough now to be a professional musician/music director, but I spent most of my teens and early twenties playing in bands and writing songs. I have notebooks full of half-written songs, and some of them are just awful, but that’s something I think I’ll want my kids to have. It’s great that I’m much more polished now, but there’s something special about the beginning stages of any art form, in that you’re bad… Really bad. But anything worth doing is worth doing poorly at first.

2. My First Guitar

    It’s not great. it’s an old, bare-bones, Epiphone Les Paul, but it’s what I learned on. I played it at the first show I ever booked, and to this day it’s in my mom’s basement. It doesn’t hold much of a tune anymore, and I haven’t played it in probably 8 years, but it was what started me on the path to becoming the musician I am today.

3. Clothes

    As I said before, I’m a bit of a minimalist. I have four black t-shirts, one pair of jeans, a red flannel (as a musician, that’s a requirement), and two jackets. There’s something special though, I think, to being able to give my son the denim jacket that I wore basically everyday for years. It’s not much, but I know I wish I had something like that from my dad.

4. High School Memorabilia 

    I’ve moved at least once a year since I graduated high school, and every time I bring with me a box of crap from high school; letter pins, trophies, awards, etc. My mom told me that I’d want to keep that kind of stuff to give to my kids, and to be honest, I didn’t believe her until a few weeks ago. I know now that I’ll never get rid of that box.

5. Memories

    This is the biggest thing I wish I had of my father. We’re on a path now of trying to figure out what a relationship looks like and how to start over, but I’ll never have my own memories of him. I’ll always never have grown up with him. There will always be this long period of time in his life that I was never a part of. I don’t ever want my kids to feel that way. 

 

   These are just a few, primarily material things I’ll keep for my kids. What will you keep for yours?

This Is for You

   “It is a wise father that knows his own child.” - William Shakespeare

 

    When I was 25 years old, I met my father for the first time. I felt like there was an enormous amount of pressure because not only was it the hardest thing I’ve ever convinced myself of doing, but I also decided to film its happening and make a documentary of it. While I wouldn’t recommend filming a major life event like that, I know that for me, it was the only way I would have been able to push myself to do it. 

    This blog; this manuscript; this amalgamation of words and ideas; this is for you. This is for your son, your daughter, your mother, your father, or your friend. This is for anyone who has ever been abandoned or felt abandoned. This is for the kids who stay up late at night wondering what they did wrong. This is for the parent who wishes they could make things right. This is for you. This is for me.

    When I first had the idea to tell this story, I was on a flight back from Los Angeles. As usual when I fly, I was listening to a podcast. This one was different from the typical comedy podcasts I listen to though. This was about filmmaking. They were discussing the keys to making great films, and said, “If you want to make a film that people want to see. I mean really want to see. Find a story that you can see yourself in. Stories worth telling are those that reflect real life. Reality is the best story.” At the time, I had no idea that this quote would change my life forever. 

    Now why write a blog about the process of making a documentary of finding my father? Because long before I started filming, I started reading. I scoured the internet to find any tips or advice about how one goes about this journey. I had joked with a friend of mine of how there was no “how-to” book about how to meet your father for the first time. While I may not be an experienced writer, I have experienced firsthand the rollercoaster of emotions that goes along with a life-altering event like this. In some ways, I feel as though I have an obligation and a duty to help the millions of people like me who share in this same experience. At the very least, maybe this will help those who’ve contemplated, some maybe for years, what this experience may feel like. 

My name is Marcus Lee, and this is my story.