| | This evening was an example of how things have a funny way of working out exactly the way they need to. In fact, they generally work out perfectly, albeit in a completely different way to how we pictured it. I guess the story begins with Linda’s boyfriend, Eksteen. Now Eks has a band, known as The Sick Leaves. It is kind of a one-man band of sorts, and he is the singer, song-writer and guitarist. He may hire other people to play different instruments, but he is The Sick Leaves. Linda runs her own record label, which really makes them the perfect match. I have only seen Eks perform once before (at the Night of a 1000 Drawings), and I really enjoyed the performance. Since then, I have been so keen to see him perform again, but unfortunately this year has placed so many demands on my time, and made me feel so utterly exhausted, that I have not really had a good opportunity to see him. Until this evening, where he was scheduled to play at the St. Stithian’s Art Festival. It was supposed to be the perfect time to watch him, as today was the last ‘deadline-day’ for this month, and I actually had a holiday feeling. It was exciting to be seeing Linda again after quite a few months. This is when things started unravelling. David was hoping to come along, but then someone insisted on having a counselling session with him on Thursday at 18:00 (i.e. at the exact time The Sick Leaves were scheduled to play). So I made a plan with my dad to drop me off at the festival. Problem solved. Then the mom of the two girls I au pair asked me to look after her girls during the afternoon until 5:30. I agreed, thinking that it would take me 10 minutes to get home, and 25 minutes or so to get to the school, so while it would mean frantic running around, everything could still be done. I left the girls late, mainly because they had two friends there and the four girls were having such a good time that their friends left only at 5:45. I dashed into my car and started driving only to see my ‘Oil’ light flash. I don’t know much abut cars and engines, but I do know that when you get a signal to put oil in the car, you don’t question – you put oil in immediately. So I took a detour past a service station, and waited for one of the attendants to put oil into the car. I got home 25 minutes late, rushed inside to consult the map book just in case my dad needed directions, and sent Linda a text message. I then rushed off to find my dad, only to find that he was hungry and had decided to have dinner before taking me. He finally finished his meal, and we headed off to the school. My sister decided to come with, mainly because my mom decided I would need company at the school. My dad decided to take his way (i.e. the long way) to the school. We finally got there, only to discover that St. Stithians huge – it is more like a medium-sized suburb than a school, and there were no posters up to point the way to the festival. After driving around the school / suburb for 10 minutes, he finally asked for directions. Finally at 6:55 I got to the festival. Unfortunately, as you may guess, The Sick Leaves had long since gone. There was a really group on stage, but at that point, after an extremely rushed day (presentation 8:00 – 13:00; au pairing 14:00 – 17:45; and pandemonium 17:55 – 19:00), all I wanted to do was get hold of Linda and Eksteen and apologize for missing the performance. And that’s when I discovered that I had cleverly left my phone at home with the map book. Luckily, my sister was able to get hold of my dad who came back to pick us up. We listened to Zebra and Giraffe perform (incidentally they are an awesome band!) until he got there, and then we finally headed home. And that’s when the Universe finally showed me why things worked out that way. There is a song that I hear from time to time by Mike and the Mechanics, ‘The Living Years’. This song always makes me tear up, because of my relationship with my dad. I never feel like I am the daughter he (a) wants and (b) deserves. And also, my family find it difficult to express emotions to each other, and I never really know how to tell my parents how much I really do love them. As the song was playing, my dad suddenly started talking about how it was one of the few songs where he really listens to the lyrics (usually he likes to listen to the melody and the voice, not so much the words). But this song is different. It evokes memories and strong feelings in him too. It was really rather amazing (and very rare experience) to sit with him in that space, and actually have a way to communicate real feelings with each other. And the funny thing is, the whole evening had to work out in exactly the way in which it did in order for us to have had that moment (including not seeing The Sick Leaves). When I got home, I found my phone and saw I had a missed call from David. His voice mail message was that the guy he was meant to counsel had not come through yet, and he had waited for 30 minutes, and he was phoning me to see whether he could come through to the festival after all to meet me. I gave him a call, and it turns out that the client arrived about 10 minutes after he had called me, and they had had a really good counselling session. So even leaving my phone behind had served a valuable purpose, because if David had gotten through to me at 6:30, he would have left his house and thus missed the client (and I would probably have gotten a lift home with him and not my dad and thus missed the father-daughter bonding moment). So after a rather exhausting day, I am now chilling out, revelling in the way the evening turned out, blogging in between watching an old favourite musical with my lovely cat. Life is feeling pretty good right about now J Here are the lyrics to ‘The Living Years’: Every generation, Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations, Come beating on your door
I know that I’m a prisoner, To all my father held so dear
I know that I’m a hostage, To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years
Crumpled bits of paper, Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations, I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got
You say you just don’t see it, He says its perfect sense
You just cant get agreement, In this present tense
We all talk a different language, Talking in defense
Say it loud, say it clear,
You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye
So we open up a quarrel, Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future, Its the bitterness that lasts
So don’t yield to the fortunes, You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective, On a different day
And if you don’t give up, and don’t give in, You may just be o.k.
Say it loud, say it clear, You can listen as well as you hear
Its too late when we die, To admit we don’t see eye to eye
I wasn’t there that morning, When my father passed away
I didn’t get to tell him, All the things I had to say
I think I caught his spirit, Later that same year
I’m sure I heard his echo, In my baby’s new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years
Say it loud, say it clear, You can listen as well as you hear
It’s too late when we die
To admit we don’t see eye to eye |
