In May it will be fourteen years since I had last seen my father, and that was after thirteen years of not seeing him, since I had moved away. In all those years, whenever I heard the song Beautiful Noise by Neil Diamond, I thought of him, my father. And I still do.
Something I haven’t mentioned in Wednesday’s post, but I did briefly mention it a week before, is that my father is gravely ill. Two infections in his lungs, heart failure, and a stroke. They are keeping him mostly sedated, but they know he’s paralyzed on his right, and if he comes out of this, he has a very long road ahead of him. He’s supposed to turn 80 in 3 months, and I really hope he makes it.
My father and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, and sometimes years went by without any contact.
When we were children, I was his favorite. Where parents shouldn’t have favorites, it was clear to everyone I was. But, I was his favorite only to show off with. Whenever I did well in gymnastics, he would brag to everyone how good I was, but not once did he attend any of my competitions. Only my mom did. He called me his darling, his sweetheart, his little girl, until the day I told my parents I was pregnant.
From them on, I wasn’t his favorite anymore. Our contact was sporadic. Sometimes I visited him for a weekend, and occasionally he stayed with me for a night, because he needed a halfway house on his way to wherever. Of course, my move to the Netherlands didn’t help to keep in contact. I believe that all he always loved me, the way I did him; that he always saw me as his daughter, the way I always said that no matter what, he’s still my father.
There was a time when we had more frequent contact, and then suddenly that stopped again, for years. We only started having contact again when my mom fell ill, and he sent her the most beautiful and kind messages.
After her passing, our contact stayed. He sent me old photos. We shared memories from my childhood, talked about family. Even gossiped at times. He even admitted the big mistake he and my mom made when my daughter was born — a story for another time.
One thing we never spoke about, is Beautiful Noise, or any of the other music we used to listen to. There was Elvis, and Engelbert Humperdinck, Tom Jones, Jim Reeves and many more. But the one song that always reminds me of my father, and probably always will, is Beautiful Noise.
Beautiful noise… what a song… from the moment you hear the cars, the intro music, and then the beautiful voice of Neil Diamond. This song keeps on playing in my head, while I worry about my father, think of all that has been said in the past year, and how I finally felt a bit closer to him again.
He’s a tough one, my father, and I know he’s fighting hard at this moment. I hope he gets through this, and when he does, we will talk about music.
We might not have had a good relationship all through my life, but he always will be my dad.
Note: The above was written about ten days ago. Yesterday afternoon (17.04.2021) my father passed away. He never regained consciousness. His beautiful noise is now silent. My heart aches.
© Rebel’s Notes