The Truth

My Dad's birthday is approaching. I find myself thinking of him every year at this time, as well as around the time of his passing.

The following is something I wrote after a vivid and disturbing dream of waking up in the middle of the night and seeing him standing in my room.

I was unable to post it in the past because of my insecurities.

I am done with insecurity... (as if it were that easy).

It is clearly not my best writing, and a remedial rythm at best, but it was an exercise of flushing out something that was corroding inside, and was not an overly artistic endeavor.

Perhaps you'll get something out of it... but it's Ok if you don't.



The Truth



I had hoped that if you came to me

Within the twisted darkness of my dreams

I’d have occasion to say the things

That I’ve only had the chance to sing

If I never get the chance again

I’ll offer this song up to the wind

Asking God to take the time

To send along these thoughts of mine



I think it’s time you knew the truth



When you came to me the other night

I had to catch my breath for fright

You’ve been gone more than a year

So how could you be standing there?

It didn’t take long to recognize

Tormented sorrow in your eyes

Guilt then made me turn away

But turning back I hoped you’d stay



So I could share with you the truth



I’m learning to live with the pain

Of knowing how last you spoke my name

You wondered why I hated you

What it was I wanted you to do

I never got the chance to say

I had long since offered you the Grace

Offered to me so long ago

And so important in turn for me to show



So you’d somehow know the truth




You gave to us the best you could

Raised us as you thought you should

Made more mistakes than we recall

Confusing Love with cold control

The hurt was real and raw and wrong

But that’s not the reason for this song

I wrote it from a heart that’s whole

Because I wish I’d let you know



That I have finally learned your truth



So here I am working to be

The opposite of what you were to me

Often more wrong than I am right

I will continue to fight the good fight

Breaking the cycle in my son

In hopes that once all’s said and done

There won’t be important things unsaid

Or any questions in his head



For he will have always known the truth