Listening to Rod Stewart and Memories of My Dad

This morning the song You Wear it Well was buzzing around inside my brain. I’m not that much of a Rod Stewart fan, but my father couldn’t get enough of him. The albums Atlantic Crossing and A Night On the Town were required listening in our house, and these tracks bring up so many memories for me. You Wear it Well is not on either of those albums, but it was one of my father’s favorites.

I found my nostalgia this morning for Rod Stewart a bit bizarre until I realized the date. In a couple of days it will be the second anniversary of my dad’s death. I’d forgotten all about it.

Memories of My Dad

I think many of us make the mistake of only truly appreciating our loved ones after they have died. That was certainly the way it was with me and my father. I began rebelling against him in my mid teens, and I continued with this right up until his death. Of course I felt justified in hanging onto my grudges. I expected him to live up to my high standards for fatherhood so how dare he fall short of this. He had let Team Paul down. He once told me that I’d only be able to understand him after I had a child of my own. Like many things he said to me growing up this turned out to be true. Now I’m a father, and it’s not always easy.

Memories of my father creep up on me at the most unexpected moments. It is bizarre but I even get moments when it feels like I have become him. This happens most when I’m talking to my son. I’m explaining something to Timmy and it suddenly hits me that this is my dad talking. I’m using his exact words – it is the oddest feeling. I also get times when I’m driving the car and I’m flooded with memories of my dad sitting behind the wheel – he drove a car for a living. It is like at these moments he is there with me inside my head.

I don’t know what happens to people after they die. My strong hunch is that some aspects of consciousness do survive, but as yet I’ve no proof of this. The one thing that I do know is that my dad still continues in the memory of those who knew him. He is there every time I listen to Rod Stewart.