Today's Musical Theatre Dork Monday is a bit different. As per the norm though - there is a song at the end of this post. One that was written for me - by a very special man.
I love my Dad. His name is Michael Vallins. He's one of the most imaginative, generous, loving people you'll ever meet. He's also a very British (lived in the east end of London most of his life. He still sounds like a most genuine cockney), stubborn, and unwavering man.
Dad and I never had a great relationship growing up. I think we were too alike. Like many Dads, he spent much time working. He owned his own business - Steadfast Safety Services. In my parents' separation in 2002, once given space, Dad and I were able to share our passions for music, theatre, and creativity - rather than slam doors on each other.
Though he had his business, his biggest dream was still set on being an artist. The amount of talents this man has is rather abundant. He loved to create things - though not all his projects were successful; I still remember him trying to make popsicles in an ice cube tray using Marmite and apple butter.
Dad was once a photographer. In fact, he traveled around the world for awhile, and was taken to places like Morocco and various countries in South America to shoot. This shot of his has always been my favourite - and he nearly lost his life taking it! He got away just in time... just from looking at the photo you can tell he was almost turned into lunch.
Among other things, Dad is a guitar player, a singer, an amazing harmonica player, a published poet, and also a jewelry designer! He loved making rings, bracelets, and necklaces out of all kinds of forks and spoons and giving them to his friends. Now I see these pieces everywhere. Dad was making them before they were popular... so I guess that makes him a hipster too. He's also a fantastic writer with a column in Canada Free Press - as well as a songwriter, with a plethora of different pieces, including one great musical.
Now he's sick. Three and a half years ago, Michael was diagnosed with cancer of the esophagus. However, Dad was determined to fight through it and did some pretty amazing things through to the present. One big thing being - he staged his musical that he began writing over 30 years ago. The show, then titled 'Metamorphorically Speakin' (now known as 'My Fair Laddie') is a 'My Fair Lady' story in reverse, set in London in the swingin' sixties. It centers around an upper-class young bloke who wants to be a singer, in the time of the Beatles and the Searchers - and has to learn to be a Cockney. After writing it, showing it to many producers and impresarios, and getting multiple rejections, he put the show away. But upon my graduating Randolph Academy in 2007, Dad wanted there to be opportunity for me, to work doing what I love. So the musical came off the shelf, and with the help of some very dear friends, we staged it (with a pretty killer cast might I add),
played a sold-out run, and received amazing reviews. How many people can say their Dad wrote a musical for them? The experience leading up to the show, and performing the show with Dad will always be one of the most special times in my life. One song in the musical was added just weeks before we went up. A special song written for me, called 'I'm Just a Dad'. A video of the song is at the bottom of this post. It's beautiful.
When more tumors surfaced in his brain last month, we knew unless there was a miracle, it wouldn't be long. The emergency trips to the hospital are increasing. This weekend, my Dad was admitted again. He still hasn't come out. This time, he's also battling severe pneumonia, with no immune system. It's possible he won't be leaving the hospital this time.
I realize I'm blessed. Some people with cancer beat it - but others don't last more than a few months after being diagnosed. I've had three and a half wonderful years with my Dad.
But right now - in this moment, I have so many questions. The biggest one being, How on earth do you deal with the loss of a parent? How long will it hurt this much? How often am I going to pick up the phone before remembering he won't be on the other end? How often do I have to fake a smile around friends and say I'm grateful? My Dad is dying. I feel lost. I'm so scared.
I prayed for three and a half years he'd be at my wedding to walk me down the aisle, and sing 'I'm Just a Dad' to me at the reception - but I guess somewhere, I know that he's going to a place with no pain, where he'll still be able to look down on me that day.
To be honest, I don't really know how to end this. I want to be hopeful. I want to be there for my family. I want to be brave. But I'm not. I already miss him so much.
