It’s a heady task—and a daunting one—when someone you love more than your breath passes from this world, to carry forward his legacy. One’s life becomes remolded with that mission. I hope and struggle and strive every day to carry forward my son. My broken heart has been pieced together like clay around a Kenny-shaped space in which his heart survives. At least I hope it does. I feel it. I hope others can too.
But even so, what I long for more than anything is that he were here to carry that message himself. That he was present here with me in the fullness that he was, and I could hear his thoughts…and his heart…directly from him. Hey, Ken, what do you think about….(fill in the blank)? Honestly, I don’t care if it was his diatribe on dog poop in the park. I just want to hear what he thinks.
And then this.
But first a little history.
I started my Kenny in his rock education when… well, in utero, if truth be told. It is a shared passion. (With my younger son, Joey, it’s Broadway and great vocalists, because that’s his bent—and I love them too.) I started attending the School of Rock long before Jack Black ever did, and I made it my mission to learn and know and feel the legacy and evolution of this music in my soul. And I made it a mission to share it with my kid. I have so many memories of many a long conversation with Kenny, our listening sessions (especially on the road), and shared playlists and mixed tapes.
But this one here….this double-sided, red-cased CD. I have no idea when he made this or when he intended to share it with his brother. Yesterday, beginning after nine long months to go through some of K’s things, we discovered it. Gold among the boxes. Hard-core, heart-pulsing gold. A gift for Joey. A present in the present. Something new and personal and from the heart from Kenny to his little brother: Hey, Joe (An Introduction to the Music That Was More Than Just Rock and Roll).
I mean, can you even…? I haven’t the words. I’m just gonna listen. And rock a little with my boys—ever present with me.
