The last time I blogged, I must have found out 7 hours later that one of my heroes was brain dead. my grandfather, Harvey Fuqua, writer, musician, singer, producer, was passing away and I didn't speak to him the 20 times on the road when I said, I need to call my grandfather before it's too late. i hadn't spoken to him since January when I promised I was going to visit. I never visited. So that was the first feeling: regret, remorse. But I had to snap out of that one quick since there is NO coming back.
Being a large part of what shaped my ideology of the male species, I of course, was contacted by one woman and tried to hold her off until the one I considered his wife, had notified me. It then led to some crazy conversations about who was what wife, who was the legal child, who could see the body, who could give instruction on where the body was to go, and who was doing the memorial. Blah Blah Blah. Talk about the biggest mess ever. I pride myself as educated....a Spike Lee Joint, and end up in a Tyler Perry movie *! So much so that my own blood uncle...I guess, would not contact me or plan anything together. Nope. Just waiting for the proof that he was married to who we all thought was his husband in the first place. She of course provided the marriage license molding everyone. Come on son.
Make good decisions on which team you're going to be on, right? Cuz ya never know. I wish I was around to see their face cracked and in the ground after all of the bullshit. People do grieve differently. You're mad because of what you missed or didn't do and it's so final...ya know. You're just stuck.
Also like to figure out what I haven't done or how I want to make him (more) proud or, what else to do for his legacy.
Now we're planning the memorial to end all memorials. Let's see if it works with everyones tour schedule! Road people are funny....until the end. For my friends who wonder when i'm going to "settle down"....I guess when I'm dead.
*thanks Tay
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