I keep being haunted by incredible music lately. The most recent “encounter” has been with music from Ben Folds; hopefully whoever reads this is aware of his music. He has a song on his latest album called “Late” that he wrote for a musician aquaintance. Ben Folds had toured with Elliot Smith and related in an interview that I read about the experience he had wathcing and learning from him as they shared the stage. Elliot Smith killed himself not long ago and the song “Late” tells of the appreication Ben Folds has for him and the unfortunate circumstance of why it is now too late to share it.
I wrote in an entry a few months back about my father and his condition. It has been nice to have felt the rewards of making an effort to have a more active relationship with him. There are many other people in my life that I want to have the same chance with so that “too late” is never something that I have to deal with. That concept of “too late” is very scary, especially considering the state surrounding some of the most important people in my life, my children. I have missed them so much lately, and examining my feelings leads me to think that it’s not that I found this particular song to which I am referencing out of the blue, but that it was always there and the thoughts and intents of my heart found words to which attach themselves.
The funny thing (or sad, depending on your level of satire) is that the situation with my children is the one situation to which I feel the most muzzled. With the other relationships in my life it is basically simple to avoid “too late”; extend a hand in friendship, offer service, sincerley apologize if I have offended, show genuine love and concern with no thought of reciprocation; all things to which I am allowed to communicate my feelings and move toward reconcilliation. My kids are different. Their ages coupled with the distance (figuratively and literaly) that I have to them makes it seem that I am not allowed to have an open dialogue with them. It seems the only way to remove the muzzle is to actually be there with and for them. I go through periods where I emotionally feel close to tears because of small things that trigger the void in my life because of their distance. I have tried to cheat the system in a way by keeping this journal and by writing them periodically as I do (I have written letters that have not been sent that I will give to them at a later day that are much more direct and personal than this journal) but I would be a liar if I said anything other than the underlying motivating factor in writing in this blog is to give them a detailed glimpse into the life I have led. I want to account to them and show them through the telling of my life’s story that their father was a good person that loved them dearly.
It’s very late right now. I have been having trouble sleeping lately for a number different reasons so maybe this writing seems polluted by fatigue, maybe it doesn’t. I am hopefully that I can come to this journal at the next sitting with a cleared head and less of a heavy heart. Good night…
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