Yes, I’ve been away from the internet for a while. I’m sure you’re all still here, safe and sound, and some of you may not have noticed my lack of presence at all, which makes me feel a little better about it. But I didn’t fork over a hundred bucks for the year to set this shit up and not use it, so here I am.
Things got a little crazy after I started to look for a sublet, and even worse after I moved into it. My housemates — the two who are already here at least — are very nice, but are hardly here, so it’s nothing like that. My cats and I had only been here for a couple of days when my father went in for what was supposed to be a simple biopsy procedure that went awry and we wound up losing him to complete organ failure a couple of days later. That morning, an electrical fire caught in my folks house (my childhood home, where I had been staying), in the living space where I had been. No one was home, as my mother was at my father’s bedside, but she did lose their cat, as well.
I lost about 90% of my possessions, but that wouldn’t matter if I still had my best friend. I’m only 32. I wasn’t supposed to lose my daddy yet. If some sucker marries me, who will walk me down the aisle and dance to Waltzing Matilda with me? And my dad? He was healthy until April, and I know that terrible things can happen to good people, but my dad never did anything to anyone. He was only 64; a salt-of-the-earth music man who would have given you the shirt off his back. I’m somehow completely aware and yet in complete denial at the same time.
Who will be my snobby brewery buddy now? Who will drink the samples in the same order, swill the little glass, and sniff it all before trying it whilst my mom would laugh at how we did the same exact thing and try to catch a picture? When I buy a new dress and ask “How do I look?” who will say “I wouldn’t wear it, but you look beautiful.”? And the winter holidays won’t be the same ever again. No more spending an hour in the liquor store making perfect mix-a-sixes for Thanksgiving and Christmas, or taking turns watching the thermometer for the hard candies. No more making up his dinner plate and making sure that his peas are next to his potatoes. I don’t know how to say goodbye to the man who taught me everything I needed to know about music and passed on his synesthesia to me without knowing he ever had it, until I told him about it, and he said that it made a lot of things make more sense. (Though his dominant trait was tasting smells, poor guy.)
Right now, I’m still very much taking things hour by hour, still crying multiple times a day, and staring and walls and ceilings. But my dad always said that our cousin Murphy had it out for us and that we just had to keep calm and carry on, no matter what we were faced with. And he was very excited for me to get back out into the city and start my career and get my life back on track after three and a half years of surgeries, injections and other odd medical procedures. Since I am completely proud to be the youngest daughter of Kevin Kelley, the daughter that makes people stop in their tracks and say “Holy shit, you look just like your father, but dress like your mother did when he fell in love wither her,” I will continue with this website and business, I just ask you to be patient with my mood, and also what becomes available for sale, as all of the items you may have seem on Instagram have burned to ashes. If you made it this far, I thank you for reading and honoring my father. If you keep scrolling, there’s a treat for you. And yes, I actually mean a treat, because while this has been a tribute, it has been rather sad. I love you all.
November 6, 2015. Two days before his 62nd birthday. He always did every silly thing I asked him to. He just made me promise that this photo wouldn’t see the light of day until he was dead and gone, I just never thought it could ever be so soon. Your Matilda loves you always and forever, daddy.