Him in me

This morning, I had a special treat when the morning FM show I usually listen to, played three beautiful 80’s songs in a row: The Living Years (by Mike and the Mechanics), St. Elmo’s Fire (John Parr) and This is it (Huey Lewis and the News).
I never paid particular attention to this song’s lyrics before but this morning, the song spoke to me:

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 defense

Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hearI
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 OK.

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
--The Living Years—

I can’t recall any fights between my father and myself. No ugly words spoken. That part of the song I can’t relate to, thankfully. It is not so much what I failed to say but more on the things or experiences I wanted to give him. They are mostly simple pleasures (He was quite easy to please....Umm, one of his not-too-simple dreams was to go Pearl Harbor). When I think of the things I had planned on doing for him, I only begin to cry so……
As I listen to the song, I think back...all of us in the family caught a piece of my father’s spirit.
When I am tuned to the RJ station on weekends and listen to Matt Monro, Engelbert Humperdinck, Paul Anka, Connie Francis, Patti Page, The Platters, Johnny Mathis...I feel my father’s life in me. I even remember buying the Rat Pack Christmas album last year and was so eager to show it to him. Oh yeah, I am one of those eight-year olds who know the lyrics of Humperdinck's songs by heart.

His lasting legacy. my treasure.