Stages by ZZ Top — A Song About Change, Time, and Letting Go

I don’t write music blogs anymore.

But this one feels necessary.

This post is for my dad.

On February 4, 2026, he lost his battle with lymphoma cancer. It happened so fast I’m still trying to process it. One minute we were talking about normal things at the hospital where he was getting chemo— music, life, jokes — and the next, everything shifted.

The first few days after he passed, I couldn’t think clearly. Grief has a way of rearranging reality. But there was one thing that steadied me:

“Stages.”

The song by ZZ Top that he used to play on repeat while I rode beside him in his Buick as a kid.

What “Stages” Is About

At its core, Stages is a song about change.

It’s about the different phases of life and love — how nothing stays frozen in time. Relationships evolve. Seasons shift. We move from innocence to experience, from beginnings to endings.

The line about stages keeping on changing hit me differently after he passed.

Life really does move in stages:

• Childhood
• Teenage years
• Adulthood
• Parenthood
• Loss

You don’t realize you’re leaving one stage until you’re already standing in the next.

In the days after February 4th, that lyric echoed in my head. Over and over.

Stages keep on changing.

Suddenly, I was in a stage I wasn’t ready for — one without my dad physically here.

Music as Memory

My dad loved anything by ZZ Top. If it had that gritty Texas blues-rock sound, it was blasting through the speakers.

That’s why I love them too.

When songs like this grow up in the background of your life, they don’t just become music. They become memory. They become part of the foundation for who you are.

For example, while I have no ties to the city of Memphis, something about the blues and ZZ Top songs referencing the city stayed with me. That influence — even indirect — seeped into my writing and my love of music. Memphis, my book, is proof of that subtle shaping.

He also loved The Beatles and Van Halen — guitar-driven, powerful, timeless bands. He was a guitarist himself, and you could hear his influences in the way he played. Music wasn’t just entertainment to him — it was identity.

Family, Music, and Legacy

My twin brother and I were born a day before his 26th birthday. I’m honored to be named after his sister, May — an ode to her, she also passed from cancer, many years later. She was a singer, and my dad was a guitarist. That musical lineage — and the environment he created — indirectly shaped my storytelling.

In Memphis, the main character sings. I’ve never tried or had an interest in singing myself, yet music is at the heart and soul of her story. That’s a direct reflection of the family I was born into: musically talented, creative, and deeply passionate.

We were very much alike. My fascination with animals also comes from him (and my late mother). He adored wild animals so much that he visited every zoo imaginable. His curiosity and love for life left its mark on me in countless ways.

And yes — most people think I got my piercing eyes from him. In truth, I got my mother’s green eyes, while my brother got dad’s blue eyes. But our facial features, dark hair, and intensity make it easy to see him in me — and I cherish that.

The Guitarist

My dad played in Al Reilly’s Catalyst Band for many years. He was the last living member of that band.

There’s something poetic about that.

Now I picture them all rocking somewhere beyond what we can see, amps turned up, guitars in hand.

Anyone who knew my dad loved him.

He had humor that could light up a room. A big heart. And intense eyes that felt like they could see straight into your soul. He was the kind of man who made you feel noticed. Understood.

He wasn’t perfect — no one is — but he was real.

Why “Stages” Resonates Now

Listening to Stages now, it’s more than a song. It’s philosophy.

It’s about letting go, moving forward, and honoring the past while embracing the stage you’re in today. And it reminds me that even in grief; music, memory, and love endure.

Dad, I hope you’re rocking in heaven with your bandmates, guitars blazing. Your laughter, humor, and big heart live on in me and Garry Junior every day.

Stages keep on changing.
Love never does.

The stage where I rode beside him in that Buick, music blaring, thinking he’d always be there?

That stage has passed.

Now I’m in the stage where I carry him with me in my heart instead.

In songs.
In memories.
In the way I turn up ZZ Top a little louder than necessary.

Love, Always

Dad, I hope wherever you are, the guitars are loud and the laughter is louder.

Thank you for the music.
Thank you for the rides.
Thank you for shaping my love of storytelling and sound and rhythm.

Stages keep changing.

But love doesn’t.

Love you always and forever.