Catering2Us

 My head hurts so much

I wish I could die.  

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"I have cold sweats.   I know it is time to get near the toilet.   The vomit stays in my sinuses and it takes a while to get rid of that taste.  I shower again, spitting and snorting. 

 

I manage to sit up and email Trayce.  I promised to contact her, and this makes me feel bad too.   To her I write, I have been nailed on my bed with neck and back pain for the past 3 days.   I hope this is not Corona?!  What if I die?   What about Mateo?  She writes back to me:

 

Massimo, breathe, breathe, breathe.   

Imagine soft pink.   Play meditative music.   

Don't fight and get upset and scared

by whatever is going through you.

Comfort your mind and body.   

Even if you can't initially feel the impact,

soothe yourself.

 

I do this.   I breathe and it works.   I sit in the shower and focus on the slight variations of temperature, understanding the comfort that the cool gives from the heat and the comfort of the heat over the cool.   We need them both, like yin and yang.  I feel the water on my bald head, imagining myself on a tropical island,  soft drops ease my pain.   

 

Finally I lay down in bed, my company a nightmare migraine.   I breathe.  I breathe.   I breathe. Longing for relief.  And for the first time in three days, I can summon up the face of my son, Mateo, his toothy, joyous smile.   Knowing the worst is about to pass. Just a few more moments and I know the pain will go…….zzzzzzzzzzz

 

I wake up hours later.    I have peace.    No sweats.   No vomiting.   I do a virtual doctor’s visit.   He suspects all my neck and arm problems are from a pinched nerve on the elbow or the neck.   I am a drummer.  Phil Collins, the singer, started out as a drummer, one of the best, but his pinched nerve ended his drumming.    As a drummer, he is my idol.   I hope my drumming career does not end like his.    Though already I have become bald like him! 

 

So at least I do not have the virus.  I can think about Mateo and be happy that I can continue to be there for him – even though he annoys the ‘heck’ out of me with his nine years old can’t-stop-telling-me-off sassiness !   

 

He’s over four feet tall, very skinny, and likes carrots and pickles, the Whooper from Burger King and the fries from McDonald’s.  He loves most playing video games, I think because he loves to be in control.  When he plays with other kids, he wants to make the rules.

 

I am Italian, born and raised in Verona.   I came to New York City in (2004) to pursue a music career.  I made money playing gigs with songwriters performing their original music, as well working with bands doing covers.  And in the mornings I walked dogs.  I ate ramen noodles until one of the songwriters recommended me to the catering company she worked with, and my diet became much richer.

 

My son Mateo is Black.  His mother is very dark skinned; he is light skinned though he tans very dark.   It is strange how sometimes people can’t imagine me to be his father.  

 

We went to the park and it was white moms sitting on the benches watching over their children.   Mateo is that age where he wants to be independent and he went to play far away from me as though we are not connected.   So I was sitting there alone.   A white boy, maybe six, came up to me and asked, 'Excuse me sir, which one is your kid?'.  I knew that the mothers didn't know which child to connect me to, so they feared I was a pedophile.   I said, 'Tell your mother my son is the most beautiful Black boy here.'

 

It feels so wrong that I have the white privilege that my son doesn’t.   I am overwhelmed by all the news of Black people being murdered under the cover of law and order.   It makes my heart beat so fast, too fast.  George Floyd’s killing finally brought people to the street.   But I was already so appalled by the lynching of Ahmad Arbury.   It sums it all. Racist father and son, ARMED ex-cop, corrupted investigation, and false testimony.   It could have been my son Mateo jogging, his mother, anybody with brown or black skin.

 

The pandemic and the murdering of innocent Black people has made me think,  I must stay alive to be an ever present heartbeat for my son.  I must help raise him until he’s a man able to understand how he must protect himself at all times from irrational and dangerous racism.  

 

It scares me  to think, and I think about it now, what if I died?   What about Mateo?   I recently  did something I never thought to do before – I bought life insurance.   I was so happy that after the insurance company had my medical information they judged me healthy and even reduced the premium.   I am strong !   I will be here for my son.

 

Crazy times, but I am somehow glad this is happening and hopefully will bring a change.  I have not taken Mateo to a demonstration, but one came to us when we were out on the street.  We watched hundreds of demon-strators pass us.  I said to Mateo, how powerful it is to see millions of people, black, white, all colors, out on the streets around the world – all wanting to protect him!

 

BLM  -  Black Lives Matter!

MSM -  My Son Matters!

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                              -   Massimo 

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