April 21, 2020
To a loving father, the Willy to my Jesse
Dear Dad,
I don’t think I could have ever imagined being 35, living in Los Angeles, and writing a letter to you almost 25 years after you left the earth, but such is life, right? You knew things could change at any given moment because you had been through a lot in your life in a short amount of time, like losing both of your brothers at young ages, your longtime job, and your dad, but it was easy to forget that because of your laid back attitude and fun-loving ways. There are certain memories that stand out in my mind with you, the ones I never forgot.
Here are the things I remember, the times I’m grateful to have spent with you.
You were 44 years old when I was born. I ended up being the youngest of six that you raised but I was technically the youngest of seven since one of my older sisters sadly died at birth. I found out I wasn’t exactly planned but you were ecstatic when Mom told you she was expecting me. She said you were so excited and became even more thrilled when I ended up being a little girl, because you knew the bond between a father and a daughter was truly special. B.J., your youngest daughter before me, was 11 at that point and growing fast, and my arrival meant you were going to get to raise another “Daddy’s little girl” all over again.
It’s hard to recall the very first memory I have of you but I do remember a lot. You were born in Massachusetts to Portuguese parents and you weren’t a very tall man. Mom says you were 5’8” which is shorter than the average male in the U.S., but to me, you were very tall. You used to love wearing button-down shirts, plaid mostly, but solid-colored ones too and jeans. I don’t think I ever saw you in a T-shirt. Not once. By the time I was born, your dark brown hair had already gone to a mostly salt and pepper color, because of the genes in your family, but it was very thick and there was no way you were ever going bald, so you had that on your side. Since you were from the era of the mustache, you had one of those most of the time as well and it suited you. You shaved it once or twice and I remember it just looking strange, so good on you for keeping it when you did.
You worked as a sewing machine mechanic. You loved to eat Mom’s cooking but you would also make your own late-night meals of hamburgers and French fries and it was your favorite. You’d sometimes make me some while you were about to enjoy it and I can still picture you standing at the stovetop preparing the greasy but delicious goodies. You’d happily put some on a plate for me and on a plate for you, and sometimes, when Mom was already asleep, we’d eat together in the living room and watch TV. I think these were some of your favorite moments because you seemed so happy. To just be relaxing and spending time at home with people you loved. You didn’t need anything else, you were very humble and easily pleased and these times were perfect examples of that.
You also loved to make breakfasts on weekends. French toast was your specialty and you’d make some for me and sometimes some of my friends or some of your grandchildren who would spend the night. It was always yummy, of course, but I think I got more joy from seeing you in your element than from eating it. You really loved cooking for others and I’m very grateful for all the meals you made for me.
One of the things that I remember clearly from back in those days is waking up in the mornings to some very distinct sounds. After a long sleep, I’d open my eyes and immediately hear noises of clanging mugs and plates and then the voices of you and Mom talking. It was your morning coffee time ritual and it was my waking up ritual. You’d both sit in the kitchen drinking your coffee and talking about random things and you’d enjoy some milk crackers, your favorite. Whenever I heard that clanging and your voices as I still laid in my bed, I knew I was home, I was safe, and my two parents were in the room next to me.
You loved gathering the family together for barbeques in the backyard. You’d cook on the grill and laugh and joke with everyone. You loved to golf and would play often in the backyard. You also had a garden in the yard and you’d grow vegetables in it, and you’d get sooooo excited when they would start sprouting. You’d take me back there and proudly show it off, getting me excited too. You would also get super excited whenever you’d see rabbits in the yard, one in particular kept coming back, and we named him Ian.
You loved animals, not just rabbits and I can still remember you taking care of our family dogs, a German shepherd named Sheepie, and later on, a puppy named Trapper. You also loved a little white catfish that I got and we named him Mickey, and you’d always step inside my room to visit him. In the summertime, we would go to the beach and pick periwinkles off the rocks so we could later cook them and it became a yearly ritual for us. It was so much fun to find as many as I could and I can still picture myself holding a big bucket. I can still smell the scent from the water and sand and I can still feel the rocks beneath my feet.
You had nicknames for all your kids. You’d call me Erie and tease me by saying it until I couldn’t stop giggling. You’d join Tommy and me for video games and watched movies with us. Weird Science was one and you had your favorite parts, including when the parents couldn’t remember their son, Gary, because of the spell Lisa put on them. You would laugh so much at that. You loved watching The Sound of Music with all of us and the dog racing on TV. You’d make a game out of the racing and we’d each bet on which ones would win. I can still picture the small barely-working TV that we’d watch the races on and it was a huge event for you. You also introduced me to Bazooka bubble gum and the little comics inside. We’d try and collect as many as we could. You also made up a character called “The Beast”, which was a wild tickle monster of sorts and you’d get down on your knees and swing your arms while making these outrageous sounds and run toward us. We’d all scream, laugh, and run away as our adrenaline peaked and you’d eventually catch up to us and we’d have a thrilling giggle fest as you’d tickle us to no end.
We also had our own special rituals, just you and me. You’d always buy me these chocolate cookies with chocolate chips in them whenever we’d go to the store and you’d take photos of me with my paper dolls and silly outfits. We watched the 1994 Winter Olympics live on TV a few nights and I’d prance around the living room pretending to be one of the figure skaters and jump and you’d cheer me on and pretend to be a commentator. You were very silly. You’d tell me bedtime stories while tucking me in at night. One of the last ones you told me was about “Willy the Baker”, a baker who would bake lots and lots of cakes for people. Your enthusiasm over telling this simple yet awesome story was truly memorable and you didn’t just rush the story to get me to sleep, you really told that story and got so into it.
I’m pretty sure you chose the name Willy for the baker because of the movie we watched and grew to love together: Free Willy. I’ll never forget this movie and the connection it gave us. This was our thing. And I thank God every day that I have the precious memories relating to this film. You loved the film itself and would always talk about “Jesse and Willy” and your favorite scenes over and over again but you also loved the music from the soundtrack, especially Michael Jackson’s song “Will You Be There?” We’d watch the music video that was included at the end of the movie with Michael singing the tune in a flowing white shirt and black pants. He had air blowing his clothes and hair all around and he’d put his arms out and swing his head back while singing the passionate lyrics. You absolutely loved it and would mimic his moves over and over again. “Oh I just love that song! That Michael singing that, it’s so good! I just love it!” you’d exclaim, and I’d laugh and keep watching you mimic the moves. You even opened your shirt once to make it flow like his. You were so happy in this moment and I was too. We later watched the trailer for Free Willy 2, the sequel to the first film, and you told me we had to go see it in the theater together. You were so excited to see it. It was coming out on July 19, 1995. You died on June 16, 1995.
Here are the things I remember, the times I wish I could have spent with you.
You were 54 years old when you passed away. I was 10. I didn’t cry until the morning after it happened. I woke up and it was quiet. I didn’t hear the clanging or the talking. Just silence and it hit me that you were really gone. I wrote in my journal about the tragedy but other than that, I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. I was in shock and denial for many years.
Since you’ve been gone, I grew older, graduated from high school, and eventually learned to cook on my own. I try out different recipes sometimes and like to bake a lot. I also try to make French toast once in a while, not often, but of course, it’s never as good as yours was. I wish you could taste it yourself and let me know though. I still like to eat and watch TV at night but this time it’s in my own living room.
I went to college in Boston. I wish you could have seen my dorm rooms and the fun stuff around the city. I think you would have liked it a lot. After graduating, I decided to make a huge change and move to Arizona. It was so hot there, you have no idea, but I had some great times and met some good people and learned a lot about myself. I also got a guinea pig named Bailey and I know you would have loved him. He was all white just like Mickey. I eventually moved to San Francisco and then Los Angeles, where I am now, where they make all the movies! You wouldn’t believe it. It would have been awesome if you could have visited me here. You would be in such awe. After my piggy, Bailey passed, I got another one I named Brett. You would have loved him too. Just like you did with me, I found myself giving these piggies, my animal babies, nicknames. I get it now.
Sometimes I still see those cookies in the store and sometimes I buy them. One time, when I was having a very rough time in my life and wishing for comfort, I was walking outside and happened to look down at the ground and there was an empty wrapper from that same cookie. I like to think that was your way of letting me know you were with me. I still love figure skating and even got to meet some of those Olympic skaters we watched. I actually met a guy named Willy and he became a chef and would bake things. He was literally Willy the Baker and it was the coolest thing.
Another unbelievable but very real experience I had was coming across the actor who played Jesse in Free Willy. We met through one of his verified accounts online and we just started chatting since he lived in Los Angeles too and we got to know each other through text. It was the most random thing. The whole time I was thinking, “This can’t be real”. You would have flipped. It only lasted for a few weeks but what’s even weirder is it happened a day after my birthday, after I decided to watch Free Willy to celebrate and remember you, something I hadn’t done in years. Again, it was almost as if it was your way of letting me know you were with me. By the way, I did see Free Willy 2 and luckily, it wasn’t nearly as great as the first one.
I wish you could have been there when I overcame selective mutism. I wish you could have been there when I brought boys home for approval. I wish you could have been there when I was accepted into a fellowship program to try and help reelect the President of the United States. I wish you could have been there when I appeared on game shows and TV shows. I wish you could have been there when I hosted a selective mutism fundraiser at one of the most famous comedy clubs in the world, and I wish you could have been there when I started my career as a staff writer for a popular entertainment news publication. Just so you know, I got to interview the actress who played Lisa in Weird Science and her favorite scene of the movie was the one with the parents too!
You’re not here in body anymore but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that you’re here in spirit. You’re also here through me and all your sons and daughters, through the impact you made. I want you to know that I’ve already started getting some white hair and I know you’re to blame. Thank you for that ☺. I’ve learned a lot of lessons along the way and am really trying to become a better person and do a better job in embracing myself for everything I am, and know my worth. I’ve realized I am oddly drawn to guys with thick hair who wear plaid shirts. I’m pretty sure that’s because of you too and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. It’s just a simple reminder that the one man who loved me with all his heart is something that appeals to me so it can be beneficial in finding someone who maybe will love me with all his heart too. I make my own coffee in the mornings and maybe someday that ritual will bring comfort to someone else too.
Life’s not always easy and I’m trying to take it one day at a time. I’m trying to take advantage of every opportunity while at the same time knowing that it could all be gone tomorrow. You taught me how amazing life can be but you taught me how fragile it can be too. Every time I lose a family member, pet, or friend, the first thing that comes into my head is that I hope they get to see you and be around you, because I know if they do, it’s all good.
As I’ve heard time and time again, it’s not the time we are born or the time we die that really matters, it’s the time in between, and when I look back on what I remember most about you, it turns out to be the simple things, the everyday things. Those are the ones that stick to the heart. Those are the ones that I miss most. I don’t think anyone can really understand that until they lose someone they love. It’s those uneventful times that matter more than anything else.
Thank you so much for being the best dad in the world. For being a simple man who just cared and loved with everything he had. You may not have been world-famous, but you were famous to me and there will never be a day when I forget you. I’m not sure why you had to go when you did, but I know it’s helped shape who I am and I have enough faith to believe there’s something more out there. Something beautiful, that you are a part of now. Please continue to watch over me and all our family and please be there to guide me in the right direction when I need a little help. Thank you for sometimes visiting my dreams in times I need to see your face and hear your reassurance.
At the end of Free Willy, Jesse chose to say goodbye to Willy the whale, his best friend, so he could be free in the ocean, where he could swim in the open waters like he was supposed to, instead of being held captive. To me, you’re like Willy and I’m like Jesse. I had to say goodbye to you so you could be free in spirit, in the heavens, in the universe, where your soul could thrive, and even though I miss you every single day, I know you’re somewhere better out there, free from the world’s confinement, free from pain, free from sickness, free from a restrained body…you’re just free.
At the very end of “Will You Be There?”, in the spoken part of the song, Michael says, “I’ll never let you part, for you’re always in my heart.” And I can’t think of a more fitting way to end a song that we loved or a more fitting way to describe exactly how I feel about you. It was all meant to be, Dad. I just know it.
I miss you and love you so much.
“Don’t forget me, okay? I won’t forget you.”
Love always,
