Sing for Me

My mother doesn’t understand why I hate my father so much. In her eyes he has done nothing wrong. He is a well liked man, a second world war veteran, he has worked hard for the wealth he has acquired and beyond reproach. I cannot take this anymore, the king in his castle must fall.

So, I tell her. She sits in total silence. I know that her world is falling down around her, but still the weight of the world has been removed from my shoulders. My father will never admit what he has done and so there is no need to say anything.

This is my secret and it will only be mentioned on my terms. He knows what he has done, there is no need for confrontation. He is old and sick now. He is making amends, or trying to. He is much kinder. He treats me like a daughter and he is ashamed of himself. He acts as if in the presence of a queen when with me.

I see in his eyes that his soul is crying for forgiveness. I will not grant it. Not until he admits what he has done.

We have been spending more and more time together. I listen to his stories. This old sea captain and I have ironically enough become friends. He tells me of India and Africa, shows me pictures of him and the locals. Sometimes I even sing for him, he always liked that.

“ He says son can you play me a melody… I’m not really sure how it goes…but its sad and its sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man’s clothes” – Billy Joel. Tracy Chapman and Billy Joel were some of his few favorites post 1945. That was the summer of 1996.

My father died August 12th of that summer. The truth never did prevail. I cried not for what I had lost but for what I would never have.

Rachel Jones