You would have been 69, but I don’t even think of you as old or young. Instead, I’d stay in my room and cover my ears. Then again, during those times when Dad wasn’t OK, I didn’t hear any of that. It sounded the way I felt, if that makes any sense. In that song, everything is so bright, but not in a blinding way, and clear, but not in an empty way. If it was a good morning and Dad had been OK the night before she’d come and get me out of my bed and bring me to the kitchen and we’d hang out together before she passed out before getting up for her other job a few hours later. The sound of the guitar in the beginning of the song reminds me of these little chimes we had outside the back door of the townhouse and when I was a kid I’d hear them rattle and clink whenever mom came home from her late shift. The first song I ever remember hearing was Here Comes the Sun, which Mom and Dad used to play on a record player they’d drag out to the backyard while I ran around on the small bit of grass outside, just me, a little dope in a baby girl’s dress, chewing on some toy or batting around some ball and dancing on the spot while they cheered me on. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. Birthdays should be fun, even in the afterlife, whatever that afterlife is. Or maybe it’s just you sitting in some sweet garden somewhere, playing the guitar and singing. I don’t know what today is going to be like for you up in Heaven - I’m not actually sure you even believed in Heaven - but I imagine it being like the Yellow Submarine cartoon: you in your crazy long pant legs walking across clouds that are really submarine sandwiches that eat little evil flying bugs with horns for noses (hee hee) or something like that. I looked up that quote because it’s what my mom always says whenever she tries to explain bad stuff to me, which she’s had to do a lot lately. You said our bodies are something the spirit just borrows, “a wind stocking on the soul” according to some interview I read with you online.
I don’t mean to be rude, but you told people not to worry or be sad when you died, so I won’t be. Postmedia may earn an affiliate commission from purchases made through links on this page.
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