Friday, February 6, 2015

I should have stayed on the farm

Watched Lone Survivor last night. Peter Berg knows how to make a damn movie.

I made the mistake of turning on something while I type this. My wife knows I love Sara Bareilles (and mocks me for it) so she saved a Great Performances episode of her singing Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. I'm sure she told me which song Sara did and I did that guy thing and only half registered it.

This song has always reminded me of my mom. I will always remember taking the album out of the sleeve, putting it on the record player, the scratch of the needle hitting the record, then the words washing over me. It all made sense to me.

I should have listened to my old man

Come inside, boy, he said. No, she'll be here. That was a conversation we had more times than I care to recall.

I'm not a present for your friends to open
This boy's too young to be singing the blues

I rarely saw her and when I did it was months, years since the last time. She had me when she was fifteen and no one believed she had a son my age so I was always being shown off to whatever new group of friends. Then forgotten once the novelty wore off.

Maybe you'll get a replacement
There's plenty like me to be found

I remember hearing that and thinking, I hope she never has another kid. Not because I hated her, I just never wanted another kid to feel how I felt then.

Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

I knew I was done with her forever.

I'm glad Samantha is upstairs asleep. I don't think I could have watched this with her seeing me a bit of an emotional mess.

Epilogue

My dad died in '06. It was the worst time in my life. She showed up. And then a strange thing happened... she kept showing up. It's not like your mom and you. Not even close. But it is something. And it's a good something.