*(Via Huffington Post BlackVoices) – One day a few years ago, I stopped by my folks’ house to say hi and my Mom told me with tears in her eyes that my Dad had prostate cancer. I didn’t believe this could happen because he was so diligent with checking his PSA numbers—to the point he drove his doctors crazy. But in fact it was aggressive. Shit.
I felt everything sink inside me because my Dad was my rock, my unwavering supporter. He was the person I could always depend on through thick and thin, through the arguments (and there were many) and the celebrations. He was consistently there for me like none other. But calmingly he said, “This is not a death sentence. We’ll do whatever it takes and we’ll get through this.”
My Dad’s name is Solomon Matthew Carrington, III—a powerful, biblical name befitting a powerful, loving and musical man. With a robust name like that, there is no wonder that he is strong, uncompromising, unafraid, forceful, and efficiently able to withstand or overcome adverse conditions.
His name has deep meaning and a positive legacy behind it. I watched my Dad get through his health crisis, just as I’ve watched him get through other adversities in life, with pride and dignity, and with a certain sense of “coolness” and style. I’ve always admired him and he’s always made me feel that there was nothing I couldn’t accomplish. So when I chose to play drums, without any other female role models, not once did he flinch, nor did I doubt that I could succeed at this profession. He was always right there, by my side.
“My father once told me that no one would ever love me as much as him—and I believe him. “
Get Terri Lyne Carrington’s FULL essay at Huffington Post BlackVoices.