For more than ten years my Father and I Have been hosting annual gatherings for folk musicians. These events were modeled after the jam sessions, retreats and shindigs we attended when we were first learning the craft.
Meeting so many of you has been a source of great joy to us over the years. Each event takes months of planning, organizing and just plain old hard work that contributes to my almost constant migraine headaches.
This year was no different. I was in severe pain when we arrived on Thursday to set up and in agony when we left on Sunday.
I can no longer put my body through this. I need to focus on work that I can do without triggering migraine storms.
After a great deal of soul-searching my father and I have decided that the 2018 Maryland Folk Musician’s Retreat just completed will be the last.
Thank you for all the happy memories.
The Daily Frail will continue, and I look forward to completing my next book which I am writing longhand as typing is one of the migraine and blackout triggers. Dear Old Dad will help with transcribing and editing.
Patrick and Dear Old Dad
I just got home from the neurologist. I have to keep this short because typing is hard.
My 24 hr EEG test results were unavailable. Bastards!
My brain MRI results were there. That is showing indications of several small strokes. We won’t know more until I go back for another MRI with contrast and a bunch of other tests.
Things have been better since I took my writing offline. As I go through this latest trial by fire I will be severely cutting back on my online activity. I will be leaving Facebook and Twitter. I will no longer answer emails. Please do not call with questions about this. If you have a question, write me a letter. If you have positive thoughts to share, write me a letter. I am not answering email anymore.
I will keep The Daily Frail, Sing and Banjo! and other current projects running as long as I am able.
I will post more information when I know more.
When we left the doctor’s office a great blue heron flew right over the hood of our car. I’m taking that as a good omen. It’s going to be okay even if things are not okay.
Dear Old Dad and I are hitting the road today. I have to see my neurologist about my test results. This mean I will miss CC’s funeral, but I have said goodbye to him in my own way, and I know CC would want me to try and get answers from the doctor.
I’ll post whatever news the doctors gives me when we get home.
TTFN & God bless,
A few weeks ago I received a box of Japanese pencils in the mail. Then a box of Amazon Basics legal pads. I thought that was going to be it. Who could ask for more?
I have a lot of writing to do this summer. All of this will be put to good use.
Your support means the world to me.
Tomorrow I see the neurologist about my test results. I am hoping the doctor can help me sort out why things like typing and being in a car mess me up.
If I don’t get any answers tomorrow I am not going to worry. I found a way to work, just like I found a way to play guitar when my hearing failed.
Some say, where there is a will there is a way.
I have my own spin on that saying. It goes, where there is a Patrick there is a way.
I am so happy to have all of you on frailingbanjo.com. YouTube and Patreon helping me along my way,
Exclusively for our Patreon sponsors: download the handwritten first draft of the second chapter from the new book I am writing!
Now on Patreon, exclusively for our sponsors, is a PDF of the handwritten first draft of the second chapter, complete with some of Dear Old Dads edits.
A gospel song for my old friend CC.
We hit another milestone today. We now have 100 patrons on Patreon!
This morning I was struck with this bolt of deep intense sorrow out of nowhere. I did not know where it came from. I knew something had happened, so I steeled myself and went about my day savoring the little happinesses all around me.
Now I know. My dear friend CC Mariner died this morning.
CC showed up at our door with a Smith Island cake every Thanksgiving. He was tall and strong and could make a car run like a bat out of hell.
The last time I saw him, he was so disoriented from surgery that he did not know I was there. The nurse asked me to feed him his breakfast, and I was grateful to do this small thing for my friend.
He came to my rescue so many times when I got into car trouble. No matter what horrific thing I did to my car (and f you have seen me behind the wheel you know what kind of vehicular mayhem I am capable of) CC would just shake his head, say, “For the Lord’s sake” and within 24 hours he would call with news my car was back on the road.
We spent many perfect days hanging out in his garage, puttering around with cars talking about nothing in particular.
He was good to my folks too.
Farewell, my friend. I love you.
Grief reached across the world to get me,
sadness carries me across seas and countries
to your grave, my brother,
to offer the only gift I can still give you –
words you will not hear.
Fortune has taken you from me. You.
No reason, nothing fair.
I didn’t deserve losing you.
Now, in the silence since,
as in the ancient custom of our people,
I say the mourner’s prayer,
do the final kindness.
Accept and understand it, brother.
My head aches from crying.
~Gaius Valerius Catullus