Fathers

Its Been A Long Time - written by Davy Rasmussen
Song Lyrics


Father's day is on Sunday and I hope this is the right song to share.  You see, I'm lucky enough to have been given two fathers.  One that I call Dad, that gave me life, and one I call Pop, that taught me about life.   Now in my mid 40's,  I consider it as a good thing that my parent's relationship didn't work out and that everything came together as it should,  but I remember as a child being quite confused when my mother and Dad divorced.   I had the fear of abandonment, that I guess just about any kid goes through when one of the family members leaves the nest.  Once Mom and Pop got married I had issues trying to figure out where my loyalty should lie.   I spent a lot of time with doctors in therapy growing up and I give them the kudos for helping me put my arms around our broken home and to get over myself enough to learn to move beyond it.   

They say time heals everything and usually the truths about the past get lost somewhere and eventually they become unimportant too.   One day I found myself smiling again in a happy home, filled with love, support and everything a child needs to grow and be healthy.   I had a beautiful Mom, a wonderful Pop, and a little sister that I loved to tease.  They pulled up their New York roots when I was in 5th grade and moved us all to a little cabin in the hills of Tennessee for a fresh new beginning, and it was here that the seeds to everything that is important to me now got planted.

Pop, Me and some friends enjoying a drum circle

  My sister and I grew very close to Pop through the years and he tried quite often to instill so many of his honorable traits in both of us.   We moved to Tennessee so he could teach music at a local University, and it was his passion for rhythms and beats that lead me further into music, playing drums and being in a band.   One of my fondest memories of the two of us together is of the 1000 mile bicycle ride we took when I was a senior in High School to raise money for the American Cancer Society.   The crazy part is that even in the best of days, when the family circle was as tight as it could be, all it would take was a phone call or a post card in the mail from my Dad that would send me spiraling in another direction.  I would slip back into a world of "what if's, why not's, and what's wrong with me".    Dad worked in many places across the world and when we spoke on the phone, he would have a way of describing the people and scenery that made me feel I was right next to him.  He would mix in a little of their broken language too when ever he could, which even made it seem more adventurous and exciting.  I would hang up the phone or close the letter that I was reading and my little cabin in the woods, my happy family, suddenly felt like a trap and I wanted out.   

Often, lots of time passed between the calls, visits and post cards and looking back now, that was probably a good thing.   Mom and Pop knew the routine.  I would carry the wad of  Quetzal (Guatemala currency) that he sent in the letter,  around in my pocket for a few weeks.    Show it to my friends at school and talk about how one day I was going to travel and exaggerated about my Dad and probably described him to my pals as if he was Indiana Jones.    A few weeks later I would finally slip the foreign money into the folder I kept with all the rest of them and dragged myself back - to the terrible reality of living in a secure, warm, loving, happy home.   This routine followed me all the way through high school and even into early adulthood.  

It's been a little over six years now that Pop suddenly left this world.   There is so much more to share about him, but I'll have to save that for another time.   It still amazes me how when a doors closes a new one will open somewhere.  He and I would often meet for lunch when we were both working in Nashville.   I remember when he returned home from New York to visit Grandpa (his Dad) who was in the hospital, he asked me about my biological father.   The subject was never taboo, it was just at a time when over five years had passed since I had spoken or heard from him.  Pop told me that there might be some things about myself that I could understand better if I met him as an adult.  If nothing else I needed to learn more about that half of my family genes and things health-wise that I should know about as I grew older.  A few days later I found a fax number for Dad and we started communicating again.   A year or so later I had a plane ticket to Miami to see him for the first time since I was teenager.   

Dad and I sipping a Molson in Montreal

This song started on a napkin in the airport as I was waiting for the plane.   The door that eventually opened is that my Dad and I have finally became friends.  We are quite different, though I've learned that I have some great family genetics.  We still don't see or speak with each other that often, but I've learned more about myself getting to know him, have been to some wonderful places because of him and I smile now every time Sharon and I get to travel, visit a foreign country and I slip a Euro, Pound,  Franc or Peso into my pocket to take back home to my collection.