Cat's in the Cradle
"When you coming home, son?" "I don't know when"
But we'll get together then, dad
You know we'll have a good time then
I’m not usually a sentimental person, but I swear, this song by Harry Chapin makes my eyes water every time. My dad is nearing seventy, I’m firmly middle-aged myself, and my son is on the brink of the chaotic teens. Looking back and looking forward, I’m overwhelmed by perspective. Wisdom and pain are two sides of the same coin.
My dad called me on his way to the ER today. Left arm numb, feeling of impending doom, nausea; textbook cardiac symptoms. They’re running tests as I write this, but he’s stable.
I know it sounds weird, but I had a feeling (a premonition even, but that’s a loaded term) the other day like something was coming. Some part of my subconscious must have been mulling over the fact that folks are getting old and mortality is no longer a distant concern.
Selfishly, things like this make me worry for my own health. I wonder if I’ll be around long enough to see my son into adulthood? Will my wife be okay without me? If she remarries, how do I go about haunting them?
So it goes.
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We got up extra early today to go watch my son lose another soccer match. He did well and had fun, though, and that’s what really matters (to me, anyway).
Now, we’re just lounging around the house, a little drained by the early heat and sun.
Otsutome with Rinkaian tomorrow evening, but other than that, I’ve no real plans.