My Dad Died

That’s it. That’s the title.

Image may contain: Matthew McCabe, playing a musical instrument, on stage, guitar and night
He was incredibly talented, although he spent more time supporting other artists than he did promoting himself.

He had been battling COVID-19 for about two weeks. He had it rough, but he had never been the type to admit that he was sick, but he took it seriously. I was very worried about him at first when I called him and it sounded like he could barely speak. But then he got better, and after awhile his appetite returned. He had been living alone since my parents split up. I and many of his friends arranged to have food and medicine delivered to his doorstep.

A few days ago he excitedly told me how he had eaten some of the jello I sent him. He was tired, but he was feeling better. Then yesterday morning, January 12, he wasn’t answering his phone. I called my mother, she called the police, I rushed over. I told myself he had just fallen asleep without charging his phone, but I knew. I knew. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself yet.

Over the past decade, even longer maybe, I have wondered what this day would be like. Would I have any regrets when he was gone? We didn’t always have an ideal relationship We fought a lot because he wasn’t always the father I wanted him to be. He was hard to talk to, he didn’t always care about the things we cared about, he didn’t always understand our hobbies. But I loved our roadtrips together, I loved working with him in his guitar store, and I loved watching movies with him. Whenever a new historical or war movie came out that no one else wanted to see I could always guarantee that he would want to go with me.

And he was so supportive, of everything. He was always so proud of me and my brothers and his friends say that we were all he talked about. When I first tried my hand at writing on sheets of loose leaf paper he was so excited that he bought me my first computer. He was the first to sign up to my email list, and would contact me after every post. A few weeks ago I sent him the first eight chapters of the book I’ve been writing. He loved it. I wish I could show him the rest.

Image may contain: 3 people
He loved everything we did. In high school the jazz band I was in performed at Disney World. He donated money so that everyone in the band could have an allowance to buy snacks in the park. We were at the Smithsonian in this picture. My friends and I were competing in the National Rocketry Competition and he went with us as a chaperone.

About two years ago my parents split up and my dad moved out. It was a hard two years for him, but at the same time it was something he needed. We grew closer, he became more attentive, more talkative. We grew a lot closer. I wish that we had had more time together. I wish that he had been able to fully grow into his second bachelordom. There are so many things I still wanted to do with him. I had ideas for roadtrips, I had diners I wanted to visit. I wish we had more time.

At the same time. I can honestly say that I don’t have any regrets. He knows I loved him, he knows I didn’t hate him. There’s nothing more that needed to be said and I am thankful for that.

Image may contain: Matthew McCabe and Charlie McCabe, people smiling
A few years ago he took me to see Iron Maiden in Montreal. He wasn’t a fan, but he wanted to take a selfie to prove he went. I never got a picture when we went to see Amon Amarth.

My father was very popular in his community. It has only been a day and already there has been an incredible outpouring of support. All day I’ve been on the phone with his friends, and my friends. Dozens of people have posted to Facebook about him. He was a big part of the local community and he is dearly missed. In the coming months I’ll be using this post as a way of archiving all of the tributes being made to him.

I know these times are hard, but if you have a few dollars to spare it would mean a lot if you could donate to Caffe Lena or the Franklin Community Center in the name of my father, Matthew McCabe. No one who walked into his store needing help ever left without it, but these are two causes that he kept coming back to.

Thank you. And wear your mask. Please.

Image may contain: candles, night and fire
Candles outside his store.

If you are finding this post through Google or some other means I don’t have a great way to get in touch through this website. You can send me a message on Twitter @expyblg if you need to get in touch.

Tributes To My Father

  • A celebration of my father’s life is being planned for Feb 20th and will be hosted online by Caffe Lena. Anyone who wants to say a few words can email a 3-4 minute video to reese@caffelena.org.
  • I had really only just begun to upload all of my father’s music to Youtube. He was so excited by the idea of sharing his music again. I still need to upload the rest, but you can listen to what is there so far here.
  • As long as I knew my father he was playing music. He used to bring me to his gigs when I was little. He would say I was his roadie and make me feel important, and then order me a plate of chicken tenders. Life for all musicians during covid has been tough. A few weeks ago he sang at his last gig which was done over livestream. He was so excited, it was the first time I ever heard him get nervous about a gig. You can find it here.
  • Just a few hours after his death there were dozens sharing their grief and their support. It’s so good to see that the community he loved so much loved him back. Saratoga Living was quick to share the news.
  • I spoke with a very nice reporter at the Saratogian about this article this morning. As much as I miss him it helps to talk about him.
  • Spectrum News interviewed several of his friends the other day.
  • An article from the Times Union.