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tinhuvielThis month my Father Unit would have turned 65. But he died the day after his birthday on the 29th of March. My Father was a big goofball, constantly being the clown at the expense of no one ever taking him seriously. I certainly didn't and all he ever wanted from me was my respect. That couple of years of his life, we came to a certain understanding of one another and we got along fabulously. Music and movies were the topics that drew us together.
There was a song that I introduced to him that he loved so much, I bought him the album it was on. It was "Somewhere over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole. He said that the man had the clearest voice of anyone he'd ever heard. He would listen to the album and that particular song repeatedly as he sat at the kitchen table.
My father died at that kitchen table, the day after his birthday, which he spent alone. I often wonder if he was listening to Iz at the time. As a result, I can't listen to Iz without thinking of my father and all the years we wasted. He was a good man. He was a troubled man. As I get older, I can feel his presence in my personality and I no longer balk at the urge to be the clown or write with grandiosity. I have my mother to keep me level and my father to dare to go over the rainbow. I don't listen to that song anymore, because the loss of my Father Unit is more raw now than it was when he died.
But I have the song and the album for when I can listen and smile at how amazed my father was when he first heard it.
There was a song that I introduced to him that he loved so much, I bought him the album it was on. It was "Somewhere over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole. He said that the man had the clearest voice of anyone he'd ever heard. He would listen to the album and that particular song repeatedly as he sat at the kitchen table.
My father died at that kitchen table, the day after his birthday, which he spent alone. I often wonder if he was listening to Iz at the time. As a result, I can't listen to Iz without thinking of my father and all the years we wasted. He was a good man. He was a troubled man. As I get older, I can feel his presence in my personality and I no longer balk at the urge to be the clown or write with grandiosity. I have my mother to keep me level and my father to dare to go over the rainbow. I don't listen to that song anymore, because the loss of my Father Unit is more raw now than it was when he died.
But I have the song and the album for when I can listen and smile at how amazed my father was when he first heard it.
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Date: 2010-06-14 04:42 pm (UTC)I sympathize. I can't listen to "What a wonderful world" by Louis Armstrong for a very similar reason.
I'm glad that you have embraced your father's silly to counteract your mum's sense. Sometimes it's enough to feel that presence. Sometimes it's bittersweet.
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Date: 2010-06-14 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-14 06:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-14 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-15 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-15 02:57 am (UTC)