One of the things I associate most with my father is music. I remember fingering the spines of his records in a hallway closet when I was seven or eight-years-old. I remember my first music purchase, a cassette of Van Halen’s 1984—one of his favorite bands at the time, with my soccer goal money. I remember being grounded for a whole month after pulling the emergency brake of the brand new Pontiac Firebird and ripping a gash on the driver side door, but being allowed to sit with my father for 43 minutes and 38 seconds, listening to The Who’s Who’s Next album—each silence between songs was filled with the things we wished we could say. I remember after my parents’ divorce, being the one kid to choose to stay with my father, and waking to the sounds of his windows rattling to The J. Geil’s Band’s “Musta Got Lost.”

Every year, for either his birthday or Father’s Day or Christmas, I’ll throw something at him; the Black Keys, the White Stripes, the Heartless Bastards, the Crooked Vultures, with the hope I can somehow repay him musically, usually to minor success.

Because of my father, my kids know the words to Chuck Berry’s “30 Days.” They know when to howl to Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves in London.” They also know (probably to my father’s chagrin) when to pump their fists to Bad Religion’s “Requiem for Dissent.”

Years into the future, when my oldest hears the opening line, “I’ve got to bet that your old man…” he’ll remember his father stroking his hair and humming in a night-light lit room. Maybe tears will stream down the face of my younger son as he hears Johnny Cash begin soft and low, “Don’t look so sad…”

I’m not attempting to manufacture melancholy or construct horcruxes of memory, rather I think that having something tangible or audible to bind memories to may come in handy in times of sorrow or struggle, something to remind them that their father is near or somewhere, tapping his foot, thinking of them. A song will remain and hold a piece of us, our time, a car ride, a reprieve from being grounded, a moment of bliss that they can turn to for comfort.

I hope that my children have no trouble remembering me. I hope that there is more to me than music when all is said and done, but I know memories fade far too quickly, and it doesn’t hurt to give them something to which they can anchor fond memories of time with their father.

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Highschooler Jaime Horton told Isle of Thanet News, “It’s our home and we don’t want to see it in such a state.”

The list of items the family cleared was endless and unpleasant: glass bottles, silverware, broken pieces of plastic, plastic wrap, beach balls, soccer balls, plastic buckets, and used baby wipes.

“We just cleared the big bits and dangerous stuff, we couldn’t do anymore as we had all our camera equipment and only intended to take photos around the coast, but when we saw the beach that plan was instantly scrapped! If we had planned to do a beach clear up we would’ve taken the right stuff with us but as we didn’t we were limited,” said the elder Horton.

He speculated that it had been left behind by daytrippers who’d visited the beach on holiday and had little regard for the state they left it in. He thought their hometown should be charged for the mess they made.

“I think TDC should find out where they were from and charge their authority for the clean up.”

The town of Thanet was grateful for the family’s efforts. Councillor Jason Savage said: “Firstly our thanks must go to the young people for their time and effort in clearing the litter left on the beach. They are a credit to themselves and I will be contacting them to offer an opportunity to meet to extend my thanks in person.”

“Literally two days before, I was sitting in the middle of the staff room putting the battery in it – and then the idea that the first person that it gets used on is actually my son… It’s staggering,” Stuart told BBC News.

Stuart was informed of his son’s collapse by a few classmates, and when he saw someone performing chest compressions on his son, he knew it was no run-of-the-mill sports injury.

“I’m a first-aider at school, and with the number of stubbed toes and things like that you get on a daily basis you don’t really worry when somebody says something like that – but I ran down to the field…As I was sprinting across, I realised somebody was doing chest compressions on him and it kind of takes a couple of seconds to realise what that truly means.”

He used the defibrillator on his own son, and saved his life.

“It was very scary, but as soon as I remembered we had a defibrillator I kind of didn’t doubt it would have an OK ending. It was a terrible and frightening experience but I never really had any doubt that that was it.”

Ethan was taken away in an ambulance and put into an induced coma so that doctors could perform surgery. Turns out he had a narrow artery that was having trouble delivering oxygen during exercise.

I don’t think Ethan has any issues with his dad working at his school anymore.

This state of mind wasn’t just hurting me; my wife and child suffered. My wife because I’d barely talk to her as I sat on the sofa lost in my thoughts. My baby girl because I’d never have any energy left for her when I got home. I’d hold her, but mentally I just wasn’t there, all while she was beginning to develop a little personality and relationship with her dad. And I was missing it.

I was so conflicted because I really wanted to leave my job in order to be there for my family, financially, mentally and physically, but I needed the job to support my family. I couldn’t have one without the other, but I couldn’t suffer through one more day at work. Something had to give.

It sure as hell was NOT going to be my family. The family that my wife and I worked so hard to build was NOT going to be an afterthought. The job wasn’t worth losing them. I’d rather be living in a box on the street with a happy family than have money and feel terrible.

After an incident at work that finally broke this camel’s back, a three-minute phone call changed my life. I called my wife, wracked with fear and guilt, finally admitting (about my job), “This is it. I’m done. I’m so sorry for this, but I can’t do it anymore.” And the next words I heard from my wife changed me forever: “Don’t be sorry. I see what this job is doing to you every day, and your daughter can sense it, too. This isn’t worth what it’s doing to you. We’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

So with the support of my wife, and knowing that I could start fresh with my daughter, I went straight to HR and asked to file for my own termination, effective immediately.

As I said my goodbyes to the coworkers I was going to miss, I walked out of the building flushed with adrenaline, feeling immediate panic and regret about what I had just done. I got into my truck to drive home and instantly started dry heaving from the stressful thoughts of what’s to come. I called my wife back, asking her a million times if I’d done the right thing, if I’d made a mistake. No matter how many times I’d ask, she’d always patiently say “You did the right thing.”

But I still wasn’t convinced… until my daughter came home from the sitter.

One look into her eyes with my new found sense of freedom and I knew everything was going to be alright, because we were together. I’d do anything for this little girl, but it had to start by being there for her. And I’ve never stopped since that moment.

After a small amount of time and personal reflection, I’ve moved on to an amazing job with an incredible company, and now I’m really happy. At work AND at home.

For those who are reading this and are feeling (in any way) like how I described above, this is what I have to say to you:

That was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. To walk away from something I needed and into an uncertain future was terrifying! But I had the support of my wife and child to assure me that when there’s a will for a better ‘you,’ there’s a way to make it happen.

This concept doesn’t have to apply to a work scenario. If there is something about yourself that you want to change so bad, but can’t find the courage to do, look DEEP inside you to find that one reason, no matter how small of a reason it may seem, and FIGHT like hell to bring it to the surface. If you don’t have the strength by yourself to fight for it, lean on someone close to you and have them help you. If you feel like you’re fighting alone, read this post again from the beginning and realize that you are NOT alone.

Just. Fight. Like. Hell. But fight for a reason you believe in.

– Robert “Tony” Miller

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