My Father’s Shoes

Meet Ashley – I’ll Never Fill My Father’s Shoes   After receiving a message from a page follower suggesting we write a story about Ashley, we decided it was time to connect with him as we have known him for quite some time. When we contacted him, he quickly agreed to the story and our conversation began shortly after.   “You grew up in Pictou, right?” I asked. “Well, I grew up in Pictou,” he paused, “I wouldn’t say I ‘grew up’ but yeah.” We both laughed. “Nothing wrong with being young at heart,” I quickly commented. Ashley shared, “I have two older brothers. It was good being the youngest as I got away with more than I should have,” he laughed, “I was like a Bart Simpson type of kid!” My mind quickly painted that comical picture, and I could feel a grin on my face. “My childhood was great, lots of friends in the neighborhood to hang out with and play with,” his eyes lit up, “And skateboarding was my life.” Those were simpler times.   Ashley went on to share stories about his mom being a retired teacher who taught in Trenton for 30 years, that he has been married and divorced, is a proud dad, musician, songwriter, and has a love of community and life. I wanted to learn more about him so I asked, “What is your deepest fear?” Without hesitation, he answered, “The wellness of my family. Just making sure everyone is safe and healthy.” I could sense that there was a reason for his quick reply.   He took a deep breath, “The loss of my father in 2009 was utterly tragic to myself and my family. Just dealing with the loss was terrible, someone so supportive and caring just suddenly passing is a shock to the system,” his voice shaky he continued, “Then seeing my mom go through the sadness on top of my own was rough.” My heart sank. “I was talking to him on Facebook around 10:30 am or so then I got the call to come home around 12 pm saying he had a heart attack and I needed to get there fast,” My eyes started to tear up. “He didn’t make it.” Neither one of us spoke for several minutes.   He reminisced, “My dad was the best! I remember driving on the back of his motorcycle, trips in the canoe fishing, and lots of soccer/hockey tournaments. He came to almost all of my shows no matter where they were from New York to Toronto, he was there.” I could feel the love for his dad just flowing out of him. “He taught me how to be supportive to my family and to treat everyone the same, always look for the positive in any situation.” What a wonderful legacy to leave behind, I thought.   “I quickly learned that if you want to do something or make something happen, there’s no more waiting around. That you really can’t rely on tomorrow,” he continued, “I started a skateboard company, practiced ju-jitsu, put down the alcohol for 4 years, focused on being a better father, and recording more albums,” he paused, “A few days after dad’s passing, I wrote a song that describes our relationship called, ‘Sing with Me’. He just loved joining me on stage and having a great time.”   Ashley spent countless hours in a local tattoo chair having the lyrics of this song tattooed on his back to carry his dad’s spirit with him. With a soft voice, he shared a few of the lyrics, “You said hello, I say good bye, you made me laugh, you made me cry. You spoke the truth, you never lied, you seen me crawl you, you seen my fly, you were the drive, you kept me strong, we shared a dream, and you sang along, didn’t care to win, didn’t care to lose, I’ll never fill my father’s shoes.”   Today, Ashley wakes up thankful every day for the people that surround him, and he loves making people happy and feel loved. I asked one last question, “When you are old and gray, and reflect back on your life, how would you like to be remembered?” He answered, “As a happy-go-lucky, helpful, kind, caring person/father who played hard and worked hard.” That sounds like a wonderful legacy to me.   I think this quote by Robert Brault says it all, “Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.“   Photo: Ashley with his children