Editor’s note: Two years ago on this day my dad passed away. The letter below was sent to my friends because I felt guilty about my relationship with my dad. He put in a lot of work to get me to this point in my life and I wish that I could have been there for him at the moment that he needed me the most. Although I had repaired the strain that my teenage years put on that bond we had it can never make up for lost time. If you have a family member or a friend that you truly love please take a minute today to tell them that you love them. Do that for my dad and me.
I have some sad news to relay to you all. My dad died yesterday morning. He passed away due to a massive coronary failure and this was a shock to the immediate family since he has had no history of heart problems. I am more likely to have a heart attack than he was. He had been in the hospital recently for a pancreas condition but there was no inkling that he was having any heart issues since his EKG and blood pressure tests both appeared normal. On tuesday morning as he prepared himself for work he felt chest pains. He continued with his prep until about an hour or so later when he realized that he needed some help. He phoned the ambulance service and he was rushed to the hospital. Inside the hospital as he has undergoing treatment his heart stopped and the doctors could not revive him.
I am sad for his passing, but what compounds this feeling of sadness is the fact that I have never been one to accept the responsibility that is usually reserved for an eldest child. I did not have any concerns for anyone other than myself and I lived my life without the cognizance that there was someone else that was watching me and heavily influenced by my actions. I spent time in and out of jail and other troubles and everytime that I needed someone to bail me out he was always there. He certainly didn’t have to be because he wasn’t my father, and one day I told him so to his face.
CLARENCE PENN married my mom after meeting her at NYU night school. She had divorced my father, DALLAS ELLIS, two years after I was born because of his habitual drug use and his physical abuse. Mr.PENN knew that my mom had me and he accepted the responsibility of being my father. He worked hard to put me through prep schools and provide the experiences for me that would help me excel in life. In my teenage years I began to resent him because I felt that he was too demanding of me. I left my parents house at 17 after being thrown out of Brooklyn Technical High School and quitting the work-study program at City-As-School.
I spent the next ten years in a virtual detente with my father. Not speaking more than a hello and not offering more than a good bye. Even though we used my mother as a conduit for communication, we never shared a conversation. When I needed money for college because I refused to take any loans, he would send me a check for tuition through my mother. This situation may have have continued up to his death but when I was 27 he gave me a phone call.
My dad asked me to help him out with my kid brother who was falling prey to the same demons that attack most of us middle-class Black kids. The peer pressure to affirm your Blackness through criminality. Its sometimes as if our skin color doesn’t satisfy that confirmation, so then we must go into the world and perpetuate a stereotype. That my dad turned to me at this moment was a profound revelation. He could have called on so many other people that were close to him, but that he came to me for help was so humbling to me. Ten years prior I had broken his heart to the core, but here he was before me on bended knee asking for my assistance.
All I can say to you is that from that point forward I learned more about brotherhood, fatherhood and manhood than in the 28 years prior. One thing for certain is that getting someone pregnant is the most miniscule part of fatherhood. There is a value system and a dedication to principles and community. Then there is an unconditional love for family and friends. Unconditional love requires the courage and heart of a lion. This is probably why I took it for granted that Mr.PENN’s heart could last forever. I owe my father now more than I can ever repay him and that is the saddest part of his passing.
I thank you all for allowing me this moment to cry on your shoulders and for lending my family your prayers and your support.
this was a classic. one of your best drops ever my dude. see you saturday…bobbito!!!!!!
all love. i’m sending up special words. thanks for this d.penn.
Very moving.
I am very close to my Father, and in all my times arguing with him through my years and going through issues now, it helps me to be reminded how fragile this all is and how it can be taken all away so quick.
Tomorrow I will phone him and resolve a token issue that has caused a week of silence.
Imagine that…a small issue and a week has gone by already with no words.
It was my fault.
I have read your past entries regarding your brother and cross posted them on another forum (linked back to the original here) because it was very humbling.
Keep writing man.
Your efforts do not go unnoticed.
There are times when you drop everything and lay your heart out for us to read. This post and my fav…the Bay-Bro post are two such examples.
God Bless Mr. Penn….based on this letter alone….I think he did a great job. Rest in Peace.
Gets better on each re-read… I learn more each time. Thank you for sharing.
We are so busy in the hustle n’ bustle of our lives that we often take things for granted. Words like this remind us to chill and take precious moments to shout out those you love. I will do just that, right now.
Your father was a great man Dallas. May he rest in peace. God Bless You.
classic and real…
This touches me every time I read, which is often.
God Bless, and Jah guide you on your journey….
Yo D beautiful story, I myself am not very close with my father. My cousin who is very close to me lost his father to cancer last year and my best friend lost his father to cancer the year before. Amongst this loss I havent been able to repair or even made an effort to get closer to my father even on the insistence of my cousin and friend. I find it very hard to forgive some of the things my father did to my mom and I, even if some of the things were for my betterment. Maybe I will tell him today that even though we have our differences I love him, one thing I do notice is my Daughter loves him very much and they are amazingly close. I find commfort in seeing their bond. I think a lot of our problems have to do with my father leaving home at 14 to fight with the Peshmarga and he has never really revealed too much about it but I know a lot of his demons, have to be a direct correlation of him not having much time to be young and being forced to grow up at a relatively young age. My mother being Mexican and my Father being Iraqi Kurd, I am surprised till this day that they have lasted 30yrs together and I being their offspring I feel a certain responsibility that I should have a close connection with both cultures but I dont. I identify myself a lot with my Mexican culture and I am fluent in spanish and my Arabic is horrendous along with my Kurdish and I blame my father for not showing me and not walking with me per se, thats where my resentment starts but thats only the begininng so I digress. I have tried to change the course with my daughter talking to her solely in Spanish so she will atleast have something small to call hers and also being very honest and open to her even though she is only 4. Hoping that my honesty and love will be forever instilled in her as she gets older. 1 Hundred
Dallas you know these are the joints that have people coming back – real talks you have a gift and these remixes joints keeps up biting but the book the we waiting for it…
Great story, D. Your relationship with pops sounds a lot like mine. That feeling of guilt and lost time is a mutha.
This is a great piece Dallas. Your dad was a great man. A real man.
You know, I tell my mom I love her everyday. Not a day goes by that I don’t. I feel guilty sometimes when she wants me to do things and I can’t because life/work gets crazy. I’ve been trying to be better about spending that time and having those conversations with her this year. All of my friends who have lost parents always say, “do it now”. My husband lost his mom in 2001 and says just about everyday, what he wouldn’t do to talk to her.
I love your site…
you know that one hit me, D.
That post is even more moving as I read it this time. I took a class once where the professor explained how in our African cultures, no one really dies until there is no one is left to sing their names in song.
In other words, Mr. Penn is still with us, D.
Nice work.
Agreed. The post is even better the second time around.