My father has a big birthday coming up in the next week. So, this one’s for him.
In many ways, my father is the kindest and most selfless and self-effacing man I’ve ever known.
We didn’t always get along, but the older I get, I see how much he sacrificed so that I could get the help I desperately needed with my mental illness. I am lucky to have him as my dad. He is truly one of a kind.
Music has always been a huge point of connection for us, especially American folk from his early adulthood: Tom Paxton, Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, and others. Like me, he is a creature of habit who tends to prefer consistency in his music listening habits.
These days, though, the song that make me think about him the most are from a genre less familiar to him: country. I hear songs like Brad Paisley’s “He Didn’t Have to Be,” Kenny Chesney’s “There Goes My Life,” George Strait’s “Love without End, Amen,” and Conway Twitty’s “That’s My Job” and think of my dad’s unquestioning and unceasing dedication to his family.
Of those songs, the one that reminds me the most of him is either “That’s My Job” or “He Didn’t Have to Be.” Despite different details—my dad hasn’t died tragically, and I did not want “to fly out west” instead of going to college—“That’s My Job” capures always puts his family first.
And “He Didn’t Have to Be” is emphatically not our story either, but when I think of our relationship, I think of all the times my dad drove me to libraries and knocked himself out for me after many workdays so that I could have some joy during a difficult childhood.
Over New Year’s weekend, I sang that song at a gathering and had it recorded. I hope I’m at least half the everything that he didn’t have to be.
The video is at https://www.instagram.com/reel/CpT7Du2Dfqb/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link.