Cry until you can’t cry anymore…then cry some more

Over the past month, the pain I have felt is like none other. In a matter of 2.5 weeks, I lost both my brother-in-law and my father. On March 21st, my brother-in-law Miguel lost his battle with cancer. Knowing him for more than 38 years, he was significantly more than a brother-in-law and more like a brother. I was glad to be there with the rest of the family in Florida and was glad to participate in his Celebration of Life Service at his church on Good Friday, March 29, 2018. I was the first family member to speak about my relationship with him.

Here is the memorial video that was played at the Church:

Here is the Eulogy I gave.

http://ralphhered.blogspot.com/2018/04/miguels-eulogy-march-29-2018.html

On April 1st, I drove back from Ft. Myers to Greenville and got home around 9PM. I called my dad and told him that I was tired, but that I had arrived. I told him that I would see him the next day and he said ok. See you tomorrow. I went to work on Monday the 2nd, and at 5PM I received a call from my sister that dad was not responding. I rushed home, through rush hour traffic and was frustrated that what should have taken me 10-12 minutes to get home, took closer to 30.

I walked through the door, only to find EMS inside the house trying to do CPR to my dad. After about 10 minutes of me being there, they pronounced he had passed. I was numb, and could not believe what was happening. My dad lived to be 82 years old and had been living in SC for the past 13 years. I was his only son, and the oldest in the family and now felt lost and did not know what to do next. I am normally a pretty level headed and methodical person but this left me with my legs shaken and head in a cloud that felt like a very bad dream.

On Saturday, April 7, 2018, we held a funeral for dad.

Here is the memorial that his grandchildren and I prepared:

Here is the Eulogy that my sisters and I worked on:

http://ralphhered.blogspot.com/2018/04/dads-eulogy-april-7-2018.html

I will miss the beautiful times I had with both of them and know that I will struggle to go even 30 minutes without thinking of them.

I will continue to try to focus on the great memories that I had with both of them but know that at times, I will struggle to keep it together as I miss the precious moments that we had and the things that I did together with both of them. Over the next few posts, I will highlight some of those, just so that I can remember them down the road and share with everybody, how wonderful these two people were and the impact that they had in my life.

I miss you both Dad and Miguel. I hope that you are playing Dominoes in heaven, and that you both really understood how much you meant to me.

Dad’s Eulogy - April 7, 2018

On behalf of our large family, we thank you for being here to support us and pay your respects to our dad.

Dad valued and demanded respect. But, as much as he demanded it, he also showed it. To everyone.

Respect is one of the traits that he instilled in each of us and one that we as parents continue to instill in our own children.

One time, dad was helping me with my Spanish homework and I used the sentence “Mama Isa (his mother) es “vieja”. (Mama Isa is old). Boy did he go off on how disrespectful it was to call the elders “old”. He said that word “vieja” was for old food, old dogs, anything but elders. I corrected it and said “Mama Isa no es vieja, es anciana”. “Mama Isa is not old, she is elderly”. Dads reaction taught us how much respect he had for his mother and father.

Dad always expected the best of us. Growing up, when we would bring home a report card with A’s and B’s, and his comment to us was, why could they not all be A’s? Dad expected us to succeed and do something with ourselves since he was giving us the opportunity he never had.

Two months before dad finished his 2nd grade, his teacher told him that he did not have to continue to come because he was ready for 3rd grade. His father told him that he had learned enough and that he was needed so that he can take care of the animals and bring lunch to his father while his father worked “en la finca” - in the farm. He never told us this story when he was lecturing us on our grades. It was only when he let his guard down that he would start to get upset and even cry when saying this.

He did not hate his father because of this, because he respected him. Yes, he felt deprived and that an opportunity for him to make something of himself was taken away from him but being the oldest son of 9 siblings meant that he need to help provide for them. All his brothers and sisters refer to him as their 2nd father and to this day, they say he was one of the pillars of the family.

That drove him to push us harder.

That drive to succeed and persevere was one of his strengths.

A man who faced whatever life had in store for him with courage, and he would face it head on. He had a will to live and to fight whatever battles in health he had to fight. He beat cancer twice. Survived a horrific crash with an 18-wheeler. Battled diabetes, congestive heart failure, vascular disease, high blood pressure, and the effects of having only one kidney since 2005. He may have never gotten a diploma officially from school, but upon defeating his most recent cancer, he received a Bachelor’s of Perseverance from the hospital.

We never questioned if he loved us, though he had difficulty showing it emotionally when we were young. He demonstrated his love by working hard and making sure there was food on the table. He made sure we had the essentials in life. A warm bed, clothes on our backs. He somehow managed to give us everything we ever asked Santa for. He did this, even though he didn’t make a lot of money. Let alone make enough to pay for a family of 6.

The simple things were priceless. Such as when he took us to Holmdel Park after church regularly, or how we would sit on his lap while he ate dinner. Or how we would help peel the beans that he grew in his Garden. Even as most recently as last year, his own grandchildren followed our footsteps and helped him peel the beans.

But to see how dad treated Mom during her continuing battle with Alzheimer’s. There was no stronger love than what he showed. He prayed for a cure every day. He made sure we were feeding mom and that we would position her the right way. Even after 3 years of us doing the same thing, he would still come in to make sure we were doing it right. He would make sure she had everything she needed. He would come into the room and talk to her in such a tender voice while he brushed her hair with his fingers. Many times, we would have to look away to hide our tears. Oh, how he adored mom.

His faith in God was strong and he would put it all in God’s hands.

We went to church every Sunday growing up. Unless we were sick, we were there. Even up until a month ago, he was going to church early, in time for the Rosary, so that he could pray for mom to get better.

It was his strength, faith and love for his family that allowed him to live an amazing 82 years.

13 years ago, after years of pleading him to move to SC, he finally relented. We promised him that we would take care of him if he moved down here. He and mom retired and even bought their first home together when he was 70 years old. He knew moving away from his environment was going to be difficult, and most of all, he expected to be lonely. But he embraced his move and changed.

He was more open with his emotions, and this was especially true for his grandchildren and great grandchildren. He was completely a different person than what he was when we were growing up. He would always want to cook their favorite items and would put aside food for them. On Easter Sunday, the day before he passed, he was upset that he was not able to make his great rice. After mom got sick, the responsibility to buy gifts and cards fell on his shoulders and he would pick the perfect card. The one that said things that he could not say in person but that we knew he meant.
These 13 years were the most amazing years we had with Dad and his love for his family, faith in God, drive to continue living just so he can take care of mom and be with us was inspiring.

In the end, with his remote and a toothpick in his hands, TV full blast to the Spanish station listening to the news about Puerto Rico to try to get a glimpse of what was happening where his family was, dad left us to be with God. Not suffering but having lived a life full of accomplishments, memories, love and gratitude for God. Gracias a Dios, as he said.

It is not “Bye Dad”, it is “We love you. We thank you for being you and doing the best job you could do in teaching us respect, how to be strong, how to love family and how to be faithful."
We will continue your wishes on how to take care of mom, do right by your example and be a family that loves each other, and works hard to be respectful.

We love you Dad and will see you again one day.

Miguel’s Eulogy - March 29, 2018

“Until you say I Do, I don’t”. Those were some of the earliest words Miguel told me. They weren’t the first words and to be honest, it was probably a couple of months before he said that, but those were the words that defined who he was and how high he was raising that bar for me.
For starters, Miguel was very proud of his heritage.

I am sure everybody knows that Miguel was Cuban. I, however, am Puerto Rican. I think initially, it bothered him that I was Puerto Rican and not Cuban. This presented my first hurdle. He saw this as an opportunity to identify ALL of the ways that Cubans were better than Puerto Ricans. He began by reminding me that the Puerto Rican flag was modeled after the Cuban Flag. His exact words were “that we stole the design and the colors of the flag”. The next item on his list was that Salsa was invented by Cubans, and Puerto Rican’s copied that. Let it be known that Miguel’s favorite Salsa artist was Marc Anthony. A Puerto Rican. He would complain that while Bacardi Rum came from Puerto Rico, it was originally made in Cuba. When it came to Dominoes, Cuban double-9 dominoes were better than Puerto Rican double-6 dominoes. His Cuban heritage was so pure to him, that he refused to take a DNA test for fear that it may prove he was not 100% Cuban!

No matter what the topic was, the cards were stacked against me and seamed unreachable though I really believe that over time, he softened his position. Even to the point of admitting that he needed me to be here to help him with the annual pig roast. Or so I am told. By others.

What Miguel did not realize was that while he was raising that bar, he was also helping me become a better person. I can honestly say that I learned to appreciate my culture and learn more about my Puerto Rican heritage, even if it was just so I can defend myself from his attacks.
He impacted me in many other ways.
Miguel’s love for Family and relationship was unmatched and inspiring.

I know it started way before I really knew him but it was immediately evident when I first met him. I was in total awe of his relationship with his dad. I was shocked to see him wrestle on the floor with his dad. The wrestling match would actually start on the couch, but it would almost immediately end up on the floor with some sort of body slam. And the laughters.

I am sure everybody who knew him could appreciate how affectionate he was. He would walk in and give a hug and a kiss to everyone. It wasn’t just immediate family but also family friends. It was very awkward to see at first how personable he was until it just became natural. For me, when I was growing up, we were taught to respect our elders and to ask for “la bendicion” or a blessing. We did that to all of our aunts and uncles, grandparents and especially our parents. He did not do that. I genuinely appreciated his method so much, that I changed how we showed affection within my family. I remember declaring at one point to my parents that I would not ask for the blessing anymore and that I would prefer a hug and a kiss. After all, I never heard of a person asking for a blessing and not receiving it from their elders. If that’s the case, why ask it? Would it not be a better way of showing an affection with a hug and a kiss?

My entire family, siblings and their families, and even my parents evolved to show our affection and greet each other that way. Was it only Miguel that did that, no. It was his entire family that did it but I honestly say, I learned that from him and it made my relationship with my own family, including my own father, better as a result.

While his relationship with his daughters, is something everybody who knows this family can appreciate, it was his relationship with my sons that brought absolute joy to my heart. He was “The Uncle” that the boys admired. The favorite Uncle.
He had a bond with them that was as close to a parent/child bond, as you can get.

My youngest, Nick was even born on his birthday and while that “took away from it being Miguel’s day”, he eventually convinced Nick that it was the best day of the year because they shared it with each other. Because I share my mom’s birthday, I completely understand how special that day was for both of them. I pray that my son Nick continues to view this as the best day of the year going forward and to think of the happy times they had through that unique bond.

Miguel would not take no for an answer. His persistence was unparalleled.
I remember Miguel would visit his grandfather “Mipo” and would pressure him to go out with him for a walk. Of course at that time, his grandfather was wheelchair bound but that did not stop him from taking him around the block. I remember one time years ago, he told his grandfather he was going to take him to a dog race track nearby and his grandfather complained all of the way there. He ended up enjoying it so much that for the next several years, we would ask Mipo what was the name of the mechanical rabbit from the race track and his grandfather would say “Here Comes Sparky”.
This was who Miguel was. He persisted until you gave in, but then you realized that he was right in the first place.

His persistence was very evident in how he pushed through this battle with Cancer. He would get up every morning, giving thanks to God and continued pushing like if there was nothing going on.
But it was his unwavering faith that gave him that ability to continue to shine bright for all of us.
My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s about 10 years ago and my faith has been rocked and challenged like never before in my life. I did not think that I would be able to find my way back. While I am still struggling to walk the straight line, it is by watching Miguel walk his path, that I have hope that I can be even stronger in my faith than what I was before. That is the highest bar he has raised for me.

Miguel challenged all of us to become better people through his actions and his words. Miguel raised the bar for everybody. I know he especially raised it for me and for that, I am eternally grateful. I grew up wanting an older brother to be able to count on and help me through my challenges in life. God answered my prayer with Miguel. I love you my brother. Until we meet again.

A Mother's Day Like No Other.

For quite some time, I have struggled with this Mother’s Day.  On one hand, I am grateful that we are blessed to have mom still here with us.  To be able to touch her, kiss her, rub my fingers through her hair, hug her and feel her warmth.

On the other hand I am deeply depressed, saddened, and feel an emptiness inside knowing that she has been deprived of her purpose in life by this awful disease.  The one thing she was most proud of was being a mother.  She absolutely loved being a mother. Not just to her own children but to all of the lives that she touched, raising half of the town we grew up in.  It hurts my soul to know that the days go by and she does not know, and cannot appreciate that the love she had for us is being given back to her ten-fold.  She would be distraught knowing the details, but would have wanted nobody else taking care of her. She did not ask for anything, except for the love of family.

For a person who lost her mother when she was only 6 years old, and was raised for the most part by her father, it is incredible that she became a very honorable, ever loving, always giving of herself, mother.   Always smiling and genuinely happy.  Happy because she had everything she ever wanted.  A family and kids.   You can see this whenever, even to this day, she looks at you, and by the grace of God, she looks over to you and smiles or gives you a kiss without you begging for one at least half a dozen times.  Though they are getting fewer and fewer in between.

Every year, we wonder what to get mom for Mother’s Day.  Over the years, it has gotten harder and harder as she became bed ridden and the only thing we could get her were pajamas (smocks), that we tore up in the back so it does not bother her when she sleeps on her back.  But after a while, another pajama is not going to make a difference.  She has a drawer full.  She does not perspire or really get them dirty.  Unless of course we spill something on her when feeding her.

This year though, I could not bring myself to do this.  Not to sound heartless or selfish but I saw no value in it.  I saw no reason to share with her something that she could not and would not be able to appreciate.   The same with flowers.  In the past, we would place them in the room and if she glanced over to them, would bring her a smile.

This time, she won’t.  She is barely capable of focusing on any part of the room and just randomly looks around at things, only to appear to get stuck and end up staring at some part of the empty wall or ceiling. So why do it?

I know there are a lot of people who have lost their moms or never even knew theirs.  That is what makes this so difficult.  We know that this is not the life she would have wanted and if she knew what everybody was doing to take care of her, it would devastate her.  Especially as humble and private as she was. 

This Mother’s Day, I chose to not do anything special and to add salt to the wound, went away on a business trip.  I can’t even call her to tell her how much I love her, that I miss her, and hear her laugh or her voice.  This mother’s day, I will spend the day wondering how much more empty the feeling inside me can get or how much more helpless I can feel knowing that I can’t do anything to help her, protect her and fix her problems.  When a person loses a parent or loved one, they grieve and over time, the wound heals.  But with this disease, it’s like you wake up every day and yank the scab so that you start bleeding over and over again.

This Mother’s day will be like no other. Or it will be just like any other day has been over the past year.  Just wondering and feeling the pain in my soul for what mom is going through.  I love you mom.  I only wish you knew how much.

My Personal Challenge with the #IceBucketChallenge

The latest Internet Craze, which is not crazy but an amazing example of the power of the Internet and the desire to do what is right, is the #IceBucketChallenge phenomenon that is bringing much needed awareness and donations to the ALS community. 

I am in absolute awe as to the power of the Internet, the people, and a much needed human desire to “do the right thing”. It gives me hope that there is humanity still in this world compared to the doom and gloom that exists with wars, hatred, racism, extremism and pain in dealing with diseases that we are all exposed to on a daily basis.

I come home from work every day after a long day to walk in through one door in my house, swallow my dinner whole and then exit the other door and go visit my mom who has been losing her own battle with Alzheimer’s. It is a battle that she has been waging and losing for the past 6 years since she was diagnosed. I can’t say that we are the ones waging the battle, as although we are definitely suffering, she is the one that is losing herself to this dreadful disease.

I was challenged to take the IceBucketChallenge by my brother in law, and my cousin on the same day. This was right before I was going out of town, and also the day that I was going to visit my parents, which I normally do, right before I leave on a trip to say my goodbyes. I struggled with how to complete my challenge in the 24 hour period I was given when 24 hours later, I would be in a different city.

I struggled with the thought that while I absolutely, in my heart, know it is for a great cause and personally know someone who died as a result of this horrific disease; I am seeing my own mother, who I am about to share another birthday with, continue to die right in front of me.

I struggled with the fact that, while I was ecstatic that the ALS organization is getting the attention it absolutely deserves, and the poor souls dealing with this disease are getting an opportunity to hope for a future without this disease; the disease that my mom, and family, are dealing with does not seem any closer to being solved.

I struggled to think about what crazy Internet sensation I can come up with that would enable those families like ours that are dealing with Alzheimer’s to get a similar sense of hope through increased awareness and donation that I also feel is rightly deserved.

I took my trip, spent the day in the hotel watching ALS Ice Bucket videos and others that ranged from funny to sad to downright painful that I cried and could not stop thinking about them, so I watched them 2 or 3 times.

I felt bad and almost ashamed; like I was robbing the poor victims of something they deserve and being “jealous” of the fact that they got what they absolutely needed through this campaign.

I even thought about which was the worse of two evils: Losing your mind through Alzheimer’s but having a healthy body, or losing your body through ALS and having a healthy mind.

In the end, I did what I though was the right thing. I donated to the ALS Association and then matched it with an equal donation to the Alzheimer’s Association.

I almost lost my dad to cancer a few years ago, lost one of my grandfathers to it, and lost my other grandfather to Leukemia early on in my childhood.

There are many wars and battles being waged in our lives. Some we will win, others we may lose. These battles define who we are, challenge our faith unimaginably, but also help us grow stronger in it. Through these recent battles with cancer and Alzheimer’s, I have grown closer to my parents, my wife and kids, and my sisters and their families. I don’t have hope that we will find the cure for Alzheimer’s in time to save my mom but I have the knowledge and satisfaction of knowing that we have done the right thing, taken care of her, and created special memories of all of the times we have shared with her, through her ups and downs.

I came back home and completed my challenge. I also raised it by challenging my three brother in-laws to do it as well. After all, we are in this world together, we need each other in order to survive and it is the right thing to do. Pay it forward.

Heredia ALS #IceBucketChallenge

In memory of John Gregory Kajs who lost his battle to ALS a few years ago. 

Donate to ALS here: www.alsa.org

Donate to ALZ here: www.alz.org

Those amazing powerful words – “I Love You”

It is amazing how impactful the words “I Love You” are.  It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard that from my mom.  She has progressed so much in her disease that I really cannot remember when the last time was that she truly recognized me.

I go there several times a week, to check up on her and dad, and am very satisfied when she is ok, and I get a smile.  I try hard to make her laugh saying things that I know in the past would do so, such as asking her if I was her favorite, or “I have a question to ask you” to which I normally get the response from her “Oh boy, here he goes again”.

Most recently I asked her “What’s a matter for you” to see what she would say and she looked at me and corrected me by saying “no se dice For you, se dice With You” which made me bust out laughing cause I got a response.   Lately though, I don’t get anything.  Just a blank stare wondering who I am.

For father’s day, we were having everybody get together at Dad’s house.  I walked in to his house and dad was outside with my sister.  Mom was inside just walking around in the kitchen, looking for everybody I guess.  I asked her to come over to me and I grabbed her arms and told her “I Love You mom”.  She looked at me and said – “Yes but my husband is outside”.  In other words – Thank you but I’m taken already!  Another memory created.

Yesterday, June 28th, I went over there with Luisa and when I walked in dad was sitting in his chair, as usual watching a baseball game and mom was lying on her bed.  She heard the noise of the door chime and sat up on her bed.  I walked in and calmly said hi.  I asked her if she wanted to get up and she did not really answer me so I asked her to lay back down to relax that it was just us.  I told her that I would be in the next room with dad and she can just stay there.  She had trouble just trying to lay back down so I helped her by picking up her feet to lay them back on the bed.  She struggled with this and thought that she was going to fall.  She got comfortable and I came close to her face and grabbed her face and said “I Love you so much mom”, to which she immediately responded “I love you too baby.” Tears immediately started running down my eyes.  I kissed her forehead and walked away letting her lay there.

I smiled and walked into the living room and sat down.  We were there for a few minutes when she popped out of the bedroom and looked at all of us there.

We all said hi and asked her to join us.  As she was walking around dad to get to the sofa, Luisa said – “Look Angela, here is your son” to which she immediately responded, “Oh my God, Really?”.

Easy Come, Easy Go.  Today was a great day.  I now had two memories for that day.

Living The Dream

Growing up in the small town in NJ, I remember hearing the marching band coming down the streets for a parade, be it the annual Christmas parade or about a football game coming, or whatever.  It was an event and everybody would run out of their homes to see it once they heard the drums echoing through the streets.

I remember my mom saying “Ralphy, the parade is coming” and we would fly down those stairs.  I was probably in 2nd grade or 3rd grade.  That lead to me wanting to play the drums.  When I got into 4th grade, during orientation, my mom walked with me to the band room and I was there with her when I met the band director, Mr. Pampel. She told him that I wanted to join the band and play drums.  He looked at me and chuckled cause I was about 3 feet tall at most. OK maybe a little bigger than that but not by much.  I took home the forms and had to pay $20 so that I can get the drum pad, my sticks, the book and before you know it, I was a drummer.  In the concert band .  The marching band was for 7th graders and above. 

I played for several years in concerts until I got my big break to join the marching band.  My first parade was at Six Flags Great Adventure in Jackson, NJ.  Though I didn’t play the drums.  I played the cowbell and man was I nervous.  I remember playing a standard continuous 4 beat quarter note rhythm.  That’s when Pampel ran to me and said “put some soul into it, after all you are Spanish, right? Where’s your latin beat?”.  So I started playing the cowbell like there was no tomorrow and I remember the girls in another band start dancing to my rhythm.  That was amazing.

Around my 5th grade, the priest at our church asked who wanted to play guitar.  I was an alter server and told him that I wanted to.  He made arrangements to hire an instructor to teach us how to play guitar but it was so that we can play at the church.  I agreed and when I was 13, I bought my first guitar.  I played guitar for years at the church, practically until I got married.  So music has been part of my life all along from when I was young.  I almost went to music school until I got bit by the computer bug.  I’ll tell that story another time. 

I would always dream that I was in a rock band, and would spend hours trying to come up with names like “Frequency”, “Classic Soul”, “Latin Connection”… I would be the lead guitarist and would also jump on the drums every now and then.

My oldest son, Dan, practically followed my footsteps wanting to join the band at school and asking me what my opinion was for an instrument.  I told him that I always loved the trumpet, but that I was a drummer at school and that was the coolest instrument for a band.  He agreed and next you know he played the drums all throughout middle and high school and loved it.  He was good at what he did but to this day we still argue as to who is better in the drums.

Now, my youngest son Nick, had no interest in the drums.  We got him a pair when he was about 6 months old and he would use the mallets to hit his older brother when he wasn’t looking.  However, we got him a guitar and that was it.  He found his true passion.  At 18 months old, he would strap on the guitar and you would swear he was doing an Elvis impersonation.  Those hips would move like you can’t imagine and he thought he was on stage all of the time.  Playing the electric guitar with no strings and big red, blue, green and yellow buttons making only noise and shaking his hips like he was being electrocuted.

When he was in middle school he started to play the violin as there were no guitar lessons in middle school.  He did that for 2 years and then asked if we would pay for guitar lessons at a local music shop. We took him to and after listening to the music teachers and talking with some of the students, we offered to pay for his lessons but only under the condition that he play guitar at church.  After all, that is what I did.  He quickly agreed. 

Unlike me, he really picked it up and for him it was almost like an infatuation.  He would constantly watch YouTube videos (we did not have those back then) and study how the greatest rock and roll artists would play the instrument.  He would analyze the way they played, pause the video, rewind it, and repeat it until he figured out how to replay what they did.  He was really good at it.  He did this for hours every day. 

He had the same aspiration of joining a band, playing concerts and writing his own music like I did.  Truth be told, he was better than I was almost immediately, due to his obsession and passion.  His obsession is what I lacked, though the additional tools, training and ability to view what others did easily did give him an advantage I did not have.

Fast forward several years, and guess what.  He did it.  He was asked to play at a benefit concert and that is where he met up with another band.  They asked him if he wanted to jam with him some time.  He said yes and a few weeks later, the band changed their lead singer and asked him to join the band.  They changed their name, and their style (from screamo Rock to Alternative), and they started writing music and playing at a local club.  Just this past week, they released their first single through a streaming service and now it is available on iTunes, Amazon and Google Play.

Things are definitely much easier now but at the same time, his tenacity, desire to do this, and natural talent has brought him closer to doing what he wants to do for a career.  As a parent, I am so proud of him but as someone that also had aspirations to do what he is doing, his accomplishments make me feel complete.  They say you live your life through your kids but I personally what that means to me is that it is great to see them do what you were not able to, and man does that feel great.  While I don’t regret changing my career at the last minute from music to computers it does give me an amazing amount of satisfaction to see him up there playing with his band and getting one step closer to “Living the Dream”.  Congratulations Nick on the release of your first single. I am sure it won’t be the last.

Check out Diary of a Hero by Billy and the Cosbys.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/diary-of-a-hero/id838356405?i=838356493

http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Hero-Billy-Cosbys/dp/B00IX9ELYQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=dmusic&ie=UTF8&qid=1394547574&sr=1-1&keywords=billy+and+the+cosby

https://play.google.com/store/music/album/Billy_and_the_Cosbys_Diary_of_a_Hero?id=Bt6wsw2cwpzkagfwxms3cmn2lja