It's been some time, but I felt now would be appropriate. Losing, winning, missing all seem to have their place when a loved one passes. In my case my dad almost two years removed.
I've made some heroic attempts at understanding my relationship with a man named Charles. Not sure I'll ever fully get it, but Sting's song Ghost Story is an ironic portrait of my relationship with my dad. Kismet. I thought I would share here as I make my way through a long journey.
I watch the Western sky
The sun is sinking
The geese are flying South
It sets me thinking
I did not miss you much
I did not suffer
What did not kill me
Just made me tougher
I feel the winter come
His icy sinews
Now in the fire light
The case continues
Another night in court
The same old trial
The same old questions asked
The same denial
The shadows closely run
Like jury members
I look for answers in
The fire's embers
Why was I missing then
That whole December
I give my usual line:
I don't remember
Another winter comes
His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine
These memories never sleep
And all these differences
A cloak I borrow
We kept our distances
Why should it follow I must have loved you
What is the force that binds the stars
I wore this mask to hide my scars
What is the power that pulls the tide
I never could find a place to hide
What moves the Earth around the sun
What could I do but run and run and run
Afraid to love, afraid to fail
A mast without a sail
The moon's a fingernail and slowly sinking
Another day begins and now I'm thinking
That this indifference was my invention
When everything I did sought your attention
You were my compass star
You were my measure
You were a pirate's map
A buried treasure
If this was all correct
The last thing I'd expect
The prosecution rests
It's time that I confess: I must have loved you