Individual Entry Archive: Consider This

In the Living Years

Every generation
Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door

I know that I'm a prisoner
To all my Father held so dear
I know that I'm a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I'm afraid that's all we've got

You say you just don't see it
He says it's perfect sense
You just can't get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defence

Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye

So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It's the bitterness that lasts

So don't yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don't give up, and don't give in
You may just be O.K.

Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye

I wasn't there that morning
When my Father passed away
I didn't get to tell him
All the things I had to say

I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I'm sure I heard his echo
In my baby's new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
---Song: Living Years by Mike & the Mechanics ©

Source: Absolute Lyrics In the Living Years by Mike and the Mechanics

I honor my Dad's Birthday today.
My Dad, Richard C (Dick) was born on this day in 1914 in Junedale, Pennsylvania, USA. He led a loving and good life, was devoted to his wife, my Mom, Minna, was devoted to my sister, Sue, and me, and was the most honest man I ever knew.
When my Mom called in February, 1992, informing me that he had been stricken down by stroke, I drove alone three hours from Washington, DC to central New Jersey. Mom was sure that he would not recover from his massive stroke. Throughout that road trip the above song, The Living Years, seemed to be playing on every radio station I found.
It struck me then, as it does now as I recall my emotions, that I had allowed other life forces move me away from a closeness with him. Our separation was, I think, a loss for both of us, but most particularly for me. I lamented that I had never found the opportunity to know what he thought was the meaning of life.
And I wish I had told him in his living years how much I loved him and honored him for his life. He reached heaven on February 29, 2004.
Thus, I do honor him for his life and all that he truly meant to me. I do now, finally, understand what he thought was the meaning of life for him.
To Do Good