My father, Theodore Lorenzo Jackson, Sr., shaped every major decision in my life. He was my best man in my wedding, my role model, sometimes a harsh critic, my biggest supporter, my first teacher, my first coach, and middle school principal. A devoted educator and community leader, he endured the weight of inter-generational racism while remaining committed to his core values-faith, family, community, and education. He was an observant Christian who lovingly accepted my agnosticism and learned new technology in his late eighties to stay connected with his grandson, his namesake, who was 4,000 miles away.

After my mother’s passing and as my own son matured, our relationship evolved into a deep friendship. We discovered a shared temperament and unshakable bond built on trust, humor, and purpose.

From February 16 to March 12, 2024, I sat by his hospital bedside for 24 of his 25.5 days there. We talked about life, love, loss, and his legacy. He faced death with peace and grace; I wrestled with fear and heartbreak. History and sport played calming roles during a tragic time. Those final days were the most painful and meaningful of my life. They revealed the full depth of his strength and the trauma and resilience of the Black men of his generation. They were the closing chapter of a life marked by dignity, sacrifice, and unwavering love.