On this day, four years ago, the world lost a great man. His death wasn’t mourned by millions of adoring fans because he wasn’t a celebrity. His untimely departure from this world wasn’t mentioned in the local newspaper because he wasn’t a public figure. Most of you have probably never heard of him. And very few those of you that have, definitely didn’t know him. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m talking about my father; Mr. Willis Jerry Coleman, or “Chief” as he was known to those closest to him. Today marks the beginning of the fourth year that I’m not able to see my father’s face whenever I want, hear his voice anytime I need someone to talk to or partake of his wisdom. And it still hurts.

For those of you that aren’t completely familiar with my relationship with my dad, let me see if I can put it into words for you. He was my protector and my provider. My best friend and at times, my worst enemy. He was inspiration. My loudest cheerleader and and my biggest detractor. He was both my hero and my villain. He was the source of my courage and the face of my fear. He was my measuring stick, my shining example of what a real man was and shouldn’t be. He was the best man I’ll ever have the pleasure of knowing.

So, here I am, a 30 year old man and still a scared little boy in need of his daddy. I find myself defiantly living my life because he’s not here to do the same. I’m still seeking his apporval in some way, shape or form. There are times I swear I can hear him talking to me, guiding me as he had my whole life. Those are moments that bring contradicting tears to my eyes. The mere mention of his name has been known to send me all over the emotional spectrum, from complete joy to utter dispair.

I haven’t been to his grave since he passed away, I just can’t bring myself to do it. Everybody thinks its because I’m selfish or I don’t care. That’s so far from the truth. I care too much, the pain of him leaving is still too fresh. I can’t bring myself to come to grips with the fact that a giant could die. If God could take my father, who was the strongest person I ever knew, what hope do I have of surviving? The obvious answer is none. But, here I am. Still fighting, still surviving, still trying to find my way in the world without my fearless leader. And while it gets a little easier everyday, I’m not sure I’ll ever be the person I was before. There’s a void in my life, a whole in my spirit, that I can’t seem to fill or close.

And what bothers me the most is that my children (whenever I have some) won’t have the honor of knowing this man that meant so much to me. They’ll never have the opportunity to sit in his lap or play with him. They won’t be able to listen to him rattle off stories of his days as a bullrider. They won’t be able to partake of his immense body of knowledge about a seemingly endless amount of subjects.

Below are 2 poems I’ve written about my father. I hope you enjoy them…

Little black boy, brand new in the world
Unaware of danger, his small body still curled
His eyes open wide, pretty and brown
Taking in his first view of all that’s around
His mom holds him gently, his dad promises to teach
And swears to the newborn he’ll always be within reach
This is how life should begin
Free from worry, untouched by sin

Same black boy, trying to find his way in the world
Amidst crime, temptation, his friends, drugs and girls
His eyes are still open, though weary and bloodshot
He sits back some days and dreams of being a robot
But he’s not, so he clears his mind by writing some rhymes
He’s good at it and it helps him deal with his issues at times
His mom’s gone and his dad’s health is kinda failing him
The young boy would do anything to have happy days again

Young black man, all alone in the world
Everyone is gone, from his dad to his girl
He tries to close his eyes to forget the pain he’s dealing with
Everyone tells him “Its okay” but he really isn’t feeling it
How can you lose your mentor and best friend
Yet not feel like your world has come to an end
But he pushes on and tries to stay strong
‘Cause in the end he knows they’ll meet again
The little black boy and his dad

This is the second poem…

To the left, to the left
I’m packing everything that was yours in this box to my left
Now that you’re gone, the going’s getting tough
And since I’m all alone, they don’t think I’m tough enough
Everyone keeps talking mess about me, that’s fine
They’re too dumb to walk and talk that shit at the same time
Since I spend most of my time looking real sad
All the fake well-wishers are praying that I do bad
Staring me right in my face, telling me I am such a fool
And that I’ll never ever be a man like you
These bitches got me twisted
Because what they don’t know ’bout me
Is that you’re the one who raised me
And that’s what helps me sing
“With the help of God, I can do anything”

To the right, to the right
Your nickname takes up space on my arm in plain sight
Looking at it helps me to go on
And I still hear your voice, even though you’ve been gone
That’s something I bet y’all didn’t know
The spirit of my father is with me everywhere I go
Since I spend most of my time looking real sad
All the fake well-wishers are praying that I do bad
Staring me right in my face, telling me I am such a fool
And that I’ll never ever be a man like you
These bitches got me twisted
What I want y’all to know ’bout me
Since you spend so much time discussing me
Is that I’m a prince mourning my king
And now that he’s gone, I gotta do my thing

My whole life, you were my everything
Without you, I would be nothing
That’s why I wrote this poem for you
I still shed some tears for you
Nowadays, I barely sleep
‘Cause the truth of the matter is
Moving on ain’t easy
To the left, to the left
I remember packing all your stuff in the box on my left
To the right, to the right
Your nickname takes up space on my arm in plain sight
So I don’t want you to ever think that you are replaceable

That’s all I have for today. I hope this serves a reminder to tell the people that matter most in your life how much you love them, because you never know when they’ll be called away. Now, I gotta go clean my face, I’ve been crying the whole time that I’ve been writing this. Peace and love…

Rest In Peace Chief. I love you…