Sometimes I Forget

I'm fortunate enough to have both my parents still living (though I worry about my dad). Even so, there's a song (by Loudon Wainwright III, natch) that brings me to tears every time every time I hear it. (Much less sing it, as I sometimes do.)

He wrote it about his dad. He and his dad, Loudon Wainwright II—never name your kids after yourself—had a tumultuous, competitive relationship, and he actually wrote a lot of songs about his father, some of them quite angry.

But this one he wrote after his father had died. They had reached a sort of accord, developed a relationship, and then he was gone. A friend of mine was talking about her father's favorite place to eat and tearing up, and it brought this song to mind.

Sometimes I forget
That you are gone

You're gone and you're not coming back

It's hard to believe

You're still not here

What's left behind disputes that fact

Your closet's still full of your clothes and your shoes

And your bookcase still holds all your books

It's as if all you'd done was to go out of town

You'll be back soon, that's just how it looks

But your suitcase is empty

It's right here in the hall

And that's not even the strangest thing

Why would you leave your wallet behind?

Your glasses, your wristwatch and ring

Your glasses, your wristwatch and ring

Sometimes I forget

That you are gone

And that we'll never see you again

I think for a moment

"I've got to give him a call."

But I can't now, I realize then

No, we can't meet for lunch at the usual place

The place that where we always would go

And there was something I wanted to tell you so bad

Something I knew that you'd want to know

Oh, I could go by myself

To our old haunt

But that seems such a strange thing to do

The waiters would wonder what was going on

Why weren't you there, where were you?

Why weren't you there, where were you?

Sometimes I forget

That you are gone

I remember and I feel the ache

How could it happen?

How could it be?

It's not true, there must be some mistake

Mementos and memories, tell me what good are they?

No, they're not much to have and to hold

And it's true that you're gone and you're not coming back

And this world seems so empty and cold

But sometimes something happens

And it doesn't seem strange

You're not far away, you're near

Sometimes I forget

That you are gone

Sometimes it feels like you're right here

Right now it feels like you're right here