In February, my family reached a milestone. The kind you don’t want to reach. 25 years since my father died. I wrote some words back then, and you can read them all here. Those words included mention of a...
In February, my family reached a milestone. The kind you don’t want to reach. 25 years since my father died.
I wrote some words back then, and you can read them all here. Those words included mention of a song I was writing for my dad, one that I was hoping to be able to sing for people other than myself one day.
I have finished writing that song, and I have sung (sobbed) my way through it for the most important people in my life. I have spent the past few months practicing it, trying to get through it without sobbing. I get close, but I can’t get all the way through. And any time I try to record it, it’s over before I’ve begun.
I think I am years from being able to sing it for anyone else. Perhaps even a lifetime away.
So I thought I’d share the full lyrics here instead. For everyone who knew my dad, for everyone who’s lost a parent or a loved one, for everyone who wonders ‘what if?’.
But, most importantly, for dad.
—
You were my dad; I was twelve years old
You were so strong, brave and kind and bold
I adored you; I adore you now
Can’t find answers to the why and how
We shared music, chords and riffs and beats
You improvised; I read from the sheets
Traveling Wilburys, Clapton, Queen and Stones
Now I sit here playing on my own
And I don’t know how I’ve managed
I’ve lived 25 years without you and I’ve never felt the same
Your grandson looks just like you and you never knew his name
When I close my eyes I see you as a picture in a frame
25 years without you… and I’ll never be the same
You told dad jokes that were oh so bad
“Dad, I’m hungry.” “Hi hungry, I’m dad.”
You’d walk downstairs through the kitchen floor
We’d roll our eyes and then beg for more
You drew pictures of Bart Simpson’s face
Did the robot any time or place
Kissed us goodnight every single day
Except for the day you went away
And I don’t know how I’ve managed
I’ve lived 25 years without you and I’ve never felt the same
Your granddaughter never knew you, yet she carries your name
When I close my eyes I see you as a picture in a frame
25 years without you… and I’ll never be the same
And when it comes to you, I’m always twelve years old
You’re always my bright shiny hero made of gold
I never saw your flaws, never got to know the man
I never saw you as only an equal can
I was yet to rebel, yet to yell and slam my door
Yet to wonder to your face what dads were even for
I never pushed so hard that you reached your wits’ end
And I never got to call you my friend…
You were my dad; this was way back when
I am almost how old you were then
I like to think we would be friends now
We’d find answers to the why and how
But I don’t know how I’ve managed
To live 25 years without you, all those years living with your ghost
I’ll never again see you, but I’ll always hold you close
I don’t know adult life with you, and that’s what hurts the most
25 years without you… and I’m still clinging to your ghost