Obituary to a great father - Thank you so much for "I’ve got a feeling" at Fenway!

mwplum said:

Hello,

I don’t now how to even begin, but am hoping that by expressing my pain here, it will at least form some of the healing process. My father passed away last Wednesday. He had been sick for almost a decade, but it was still very shocking and unexpected. He was still relatively young at 73 years old.

I haven’t written an obituary yet, but am in the process. I have been finding it hard to stay sober over the past few days, but have been writing a lot. My hope is that between this and my other ramblings, it will eventually be worthy enough of his character to publish as a proper obituary. Until then, this is the best that I can do (please forgive me if this does not do it justice).

My dad lived his life with the intention of making things better for those around him. He was the most considerate person I’ve ever met. He went out of his way to make sure those around him were smiling, laughing, and happy. He cared about others more than he cared about taking care of himself.

My parents got divorced in 1986, and from that point onward, my dad gave up all of his own pursuits in exchange for giving me and my younger brother the best possible life we could have. He was only 44 years old when him and my mom split up, and yet, other than one lady, Susan, who we (stupidly and selfishly) scared away, he never dated or tried to replace our mom.

As a middle aged, newly single man, most guys would be off chasing women and neglecting their kids. He was in great shape, was outgoing, and could have made that a priority. Instead he poured all of his energy and love into us. I’ll never forgive myself for chasing off Susan. We were complete little shits, and he deserved better.

While he had no idea who Pearl Jam was in 1992, he still took me and my friends to go see them to Lollapalooza in the summer of between grades 6 and 7 to go see the show at Vancouver’s Thunderbird Stadium. It was my first of many shows, and started my lifelong devotion to the band.

He allowed me to go to concerts even when I was 11 years old, and despite the fact that many of the shows in Vancouver were 19+, he would often drive me and my friends to Seattle to see "all ages" shows. I was picked on and beaten up often as a kid, but for the two friends who stuck with me, we were lucky to see lots of cool shows thanks to my father.

He may not have completely got the music, but the one thing he was adamant about was giving a better life to his children. His own father was an abusive asshole, and died when my dad was only fifteen, without ever telling him he loved him. My dad devoted his live to treating me and my brother like we mattered. He always made it a point to tell us we were loved.

He would often drive us 2-3 hours each way to Seattle to see shows, returning in Vancouver at like 2am, and then going to work on like 4 hours sleep. At the time, we just thought it was really cool, but in hindsight, I can’t even imagine how taxing that must have been on him.

He took us to see Radiohead at DV8 in Seattle on the Bends tour (while he sat across the street at the Seattle Centre Best Western reading the newspaper for 3 hours), he took us to see David Bowie & NIN at the Tacoma Dome. He never judged or criticized, he just supported whatever we were into. He always trusted us to make (relatively) smart decisions.

Instead of continuing the hate he was subjected to as a child, he made it his life’s mission to be the completely opposite person that his father was. He became a high school teacher, and was so influential in the lives of the kids in my neighbourhood, especially those that were having troubles of their own.

As I went into high school, I became friends with many kids who either didn’t haven’t parents, or had parents that were too busy with their own lives that they didn’t give a fuck about their kids. My dad always went out of his way to make sure those kids didn’t slip through the cracks, and gave them so many opportunities to thrive. Even if those friends would lash bach, my dad would still give them alternate projects to complete in lieu of standard course curriculums.

As probably the proudest testament to his legacy, I’ve had many of my friends say that they wouldn’t have made it through high school without him. Those friends found their potential, whether it meant becoming teachers, carpenters, or other useful and productive members of our community through the chances my dad gave them.

My father taught me about love, compassion, and appreciation for diversity. He fought against war, racism, gender inequality, and the war on drugs. Radical ideas well before their time. All things that may not have directly impacted him, but nevertheless affected those around him. He devoted his life to those ideals, and made sure his children cared more about them than anything else.

From an early age, the one song we connected on was PJ’s cover of "I’ve got a Feelin". For him, it connected his generation of Paul McCartney to mine, and he really loved the way (at least on the recording we had) Pearl Jam had changed the lyrics to honour their friend Andrew Wood, who had passed away in similar circumstances to his own twin brother Rossy.

It was a song that connected us, and while I don’t expect anything, it would mean so much for the band to play that song at any of Pemberton, Fenway, or Wrigley Shows, which my wife and I will be attending.

I’ve been writing every day for the past week as I want to remember all of these moments, and want to honour his legacy. For the most part, they are just for my family, but in this case, since I have yet to write a proper obituary, I thought this would be the best way to honour him at least in this space.

In remembrance and love for my father, Reginald Marten Plummer.

I love you all, and wish you nothing but the best for this summer.

Love always,
Matthew Plummer