A letter to Nick

Dear Nick,

I do not know how to respond to your distress in the way that you might want and expect of me.

I know that you want to hear certain words of comfort but I feel that somehow, no matter how much I care about you, which you know I do, it would not be right for me to pass judgment on the situation that you are in now.

You are probably at that age where your youthful stubbornness contributed to your refusal to compromise for the sake of love and compassion. And I don't exactly blame you. Haven't we all been through that in one way or another? Yes, sometimes people do forget what it was like to be young and irresponsibly carefree.

Anyway, have you heard of the song by Mike and the Mechanics called "The Living Years"? It was on the radio airwaves sometime back (not too long ago I think) and anyway, you can search for it on the Net. I would like you to hear it. Just hear it because I think it has a special message for you in it.

I'm putting up the lyrics for you here as well. Keep well - and we shall talk again sometime soon.

Your loving aunt.

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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 it's perfect sense
You just can't get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defence

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
It's 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 OK

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

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