For a few seconds, all I could hear was the faint hum of the equipment.

It wasn’t the silence I’d grown up with.

It was peaceful.

I saved the recording.

Then I opened the drawer beneath the mixing desk.

Inside were Dad’s rent notebook, the old blue songwriting journal, and the letter he’d left me.

I took out the letter one final time.

I hope you find a way to make a life that feels like your own.