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100 years to live

moonriver posted on Aug 25, 2008 | views: 969 | Tags: love, life, son, family, piano, Fatherhood, reality allergy, children

I had just arrived from a grueling three-week trip, and had taken a couple of days off to visit my home city.

After a visit to my parents' grave, I had gone straight to the old family house where my 21 year-old son Miggy is staying with my sister's family.

It's 10 p.m. I have maybe an hour or two to wait before Miggy arrives from work.

Sleepless and exhausted, I pull off my boots, wrap an old Army poncho liner around me, plunk myself down on the family room couch.

I surf the cable channels idly with a well-worn remote in my hand.

BBC... CNN... CCTV... post-Olympics analysis... war between Russia and Georgia... HBO... Lifestyle... Entertainment... feels like distant worlds to me.





The TV screen flickers. My eyelids blink.
They nudge the mind into shutdown.
Weariness leads to sleep.

And I dream a chaotic version of my own reality.

Of wounded warriors and faded vows.
Of bloodied shields and broken swords.
Of twin babies born in a forest hut.
Of a dozen flooded rivers crossed.
Of battle cries and fallen flags.

Besieged castle oddly turns into cordite smell...
And then a reassuring clatter of kitchen sounds...
Incongruously, a tune I know plays on the piano.
And with it, a familiar boyish voice.
I see his face, and it looks like me.


I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live


My mind tears itself away from the remaining dream fragments. I check the wall clock. It's 1 a.m.

Still drowsy, I rise from the couch. I see Miggy at the other end of the room. He is playing on the old family piano.

Miggy had a year of piano lessons when he was in grade school, but got addicted to computer gaming throughout his teens. This past year, my sister noticed, he has been spending a lot more time on the piano and on books than on his computer.

It seems he had come in while I was asleep on the couch, took his meal, turned off the TV, and covered me with a blanket. Then, apparently, he had been practicing some songs on the piano. I liked his choice of pieces.

"That was awesome, Miggy. What's the title again of that song you just played? I know it's by Five for Fighting..."

He glances back at me with his typical half-morose, half-amused facial expression that seemed to say he was much smarter and cooler than his dad.

"100 Years. Did I wake you up? I told you to go sleep upstairs, and you said Ngnhh. You want me to fix you some dinner?" He struggles with the loose music sheets that keep slipping off the fall-board.

"No, it's ok, son. Continue playing. I'll go back to sleep here."

"You sure?"

I answer him by going into an exaggerated foetal position on the couch. I wrap the blanket more tightly around me, snuggle my smiling face against a throw pillow, and emit a loud mock snore with a stupid comfy look on my face.

"Zzzzngork! See? I'm asleep already...," I mumble in a soft voice. My mind is already sinking back into a river of dreams. "Play some more..."

Miggy rises up from the piano bench and walks across the living room to where I'm playing hide-and-seek with sleep. He asks, "Well, what do you want me to play?"





I reply, "You were 4 or 5 then... at bedtime, you always insisted that I be the one to lull you to sleep. Remember that Ciani album? Your favorite. Play some Ciani for me, son."

"Ok," Miggy says as he adjusts the blanket to cover me more evenly. It is a rare gesture of affection, a magical touch of gentleness by a son to a father.

My eyes remain closed as he sits on the bench and resumes his piano-playing.

Awww. Berceuse. Sweet instrumental lullaby.
Years ago, I lulled him to dreamland with haunting piano pieces like this.

Now it's my turn to sleep like a baby.
Now I can allow the terrible weariness in my soul to be soothed by another man-child on the piano.

I drift off to a dreamscape of soft rain and tinkling laughter and meadow music ... A place where war's over ... where swords are turned into plowshares ... where a child grows up taller than his father...

Like me, my children will all live a hundred years.

And they will have their own children, and they will also tell them funny bedtime stories, and laugh at their silly jokes, and hug their aches and fears away, and teach them to play sweet music, and carry them to the soft, fluffy cottontail dreams that all children weave so nimbly and deftly in their sleep.

But for now, it's my turn.
To be lulled to sleep like a child again.
And to float through a river of dreams like a young man again.
And to allow a frozen heart to be thawed back to life again.
And to live a precious hundred years to the fullest.

Glimmer of moonbeam.
Soft scent of darkness.
Sweet music of silence.

I'm at peace.





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Comments

  • wombat said on Aug 25, 2008....
    Moment of peace...............
     
    I got that today for about 10 minutes.......
     
    And I dream a chaotic version of my own reality.

     
  • moonriver said on Aug 25, 2008....
    wombat -- same here, my friend. same here. my dreams in the past have always been that... a chaotic version of my own reality. the most fearsome thing is if comes to a point when one blends into the other so imperceptibly, one no longer knows the difference. happily, i'm too grounded in real life haha.

    btw, i wrote this a few nights ago, but didn't have a chance to go online at Sc earlier than today.

    thanks for dropping by, wombie... :-)

  • wombat said on Aug 25, 2008....
    moonriver: Same here, in triplicate....but thanks for the shout-out.  Glad someone is grounded.....drop me a line when you get there..........ha....
  • moonriver said on Aug 25, 2008....
    will do that, my friend.

    it's always a nice feeling to feel your soles (or even your butt, sometimes, haha) land on solid ground... and you feel yourself for any injury, and it's only a scratch. or a broken bone. at least we're still alive, and that's the most important thing. 100 years! 50 years, half-way mark, 50 more to go! that's my slogan.


  • wombat said on Aug 25, 2008....
    moonriver:  Every time I scratch my butt, I will think of you.....I am alive!
     
    (Be well)
  • beyondtheveil said on Aug 25, 2008....
    mrmoon- I remember many times waking from a dream. Inside of a second or two I find where I am, not in that dream. I am in my overstuffed chair, legs on the ottoman.  At those times I heard music, my eyes wander over to my wife playing the piano, something similar to your Ciani album.

    She is swaying to the music, her eyes opening, then closing again. I smile at her and think to myself, I will have her the rest of my life. That makes everything ok, everything right and as it should be.

    I would close my eyes again and listen. And feel there is no place in the world I'd rather be.
  • moonriver said on Aug 25, 2008....
    wombie -- LOL re ur butt. That's a nice way to remember me by, my friend. Yup, let's all be well until 2050. Or at least keep our butts clean until the London Games in 2012.

  • moonriver said on Aug 25, 2008....
    hey look who else is here enjoying my late-night company... :-)

    glad you could make it to this midnight piano appreciation club, mrbeyond.

    i know that exact feeling, my friend. that kind of piano music is so soothing, especially when you know (and love) the one playing it. such moments are zen moments, when you say to yourself, "everything is right and as it should be."

    ciani's first pianissimo album are a family favorite. i lost my copy in the countless house moves we've done, but recently i've downloaded the whole album from youtube and copied it onto cd. pianissimo ii and iii are not as good as the first one, in my opinion. but i downloaded and copied them onto cd just as well.

    thanks for dropping by, my friend.

  • beyondtheveil said on Aug 25, 2008....
    Your post to me reflected the truth in what is said isn't so important as the feeling of the moment from the other person. It made me look up a quote I half remembered by Maya Angelou - "People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

    Even with this site, that is true. When I go back looking for certain posts, yours included, it is of course to read it, but I don't really go back for the words. I'm looking for the post because of how it made me feel and I know who made me feel that way.

    Does that make sense to you?
  • moonriver said on Aug 25, 2008....
    beyond -- Oh, definitely it made perfect sense to me, my friend. I haven't read that line from Maya Angelou, but I'm always reminded of this lesson from my own experience. Sometimes positive lessons, often painful ones.

    Words are important, too, but they are only colored threads. Tone of voice, music, even the ambient sounds around us as we partake of other people's minds -- they are just colored threads. It is how we weave these threads into a fabric, a tapestry, that somehow create the moment that sears into our memories in its entirety.

    It made perfect sense to me, my friend. Like many of your blogs too, that somehow resonate in my own... :-)

  • silverwhisper said on Aug 25, 2008....
    moon, i've said more than once here that in spite of the dizzying size of its vocabulary, there are times that even my familiarity with english are left beggared, and so it is with this blog entry.

    what a comfort it must be, o fire monkey, to have your son play you a lullaby and send you off to dreaming.

    ed
  • RollingC said on Aug 25, 2008....
    :^)
  • moonriver said on Aug 25, 2008....
    ed -- Again, your words have a way of worming their way into my logical brain, then tickling my emotional centers, and finally making me smile. You, sir, are a perfect gentleman that gives me a salut and engarde with your epee before you deftly thrust into the heart with a victorious touche.... :-)

    You are so right about the poetic and comforting irony of a son sending off his father to dreamland with a berceuse. It doesn't happen often, though. Especially with that added gentle touch of Miggy tugging at my blanket to cover my peeking feet. That, sir, is what made it magical... :-)

  • moonriver said on Aug 26, 2008....
    rollingc -- :^) to you too, my friend.

  • Me-Myself&I said on Aug 26, 2008....
    it is great to see you my friend! i am glad you are back. i'll listen to the music as i get dressed for my day. i feel like singing that "Moonriver" song....*smile*
     
    to live a 100 yrs. huh....maybe i can get the next 50 yrs right. i'd like that!
     
    thank you for the wonderful post. take care xo ~see ya
  • secretlife said on Aug 26, 2008....
    what a beautiful post moonriver-
     
    so similar in theme to beyond's post yesterday-  how life makes you weary of heart and soul and how we have to find our own way to see the beauty of it again-  to find our own peace/make our own peace....
     
    it all feels like a dream sometimes, doesn't it?  the days of our lives?  the passage of time........
     
    we all take our turns.
    it is as it should be.
     
    i'm glad for the moment you shared with your son- and that you can find peace.
  • hotaka said on Aug 26, 2008....
    Your words are absolutely majestic at times, moonster. The atmosphere and imagery, the poetic flow of words... You are a genius, you know. I loved reading this post and imagined where I might be in 21 years.
  • Battycat said on Aug 26, 2008....
    That was a lovely blog, thankyou :-)
  • skald said on Aug 26, 2008....
    What a lovely post Moon. By the way I though of you in Berlin because the moon was full then and so beautiful. 
  • the_infernal_optimist said on Aug 26, 2008....
    Ah, moon...you dance so beautifully with words! It does my heart good to see you around again, my dear friend. :)

    I see, too, that your son has his father's big heart and appreciation for good music. ;-)

    ~Infernal
  • CreativeWoman said on Aug 26, 2008....
    moon,
    Your story is very touching. You and your son shared your love through interaction, if not words. I can see why it gave you such peace. 

    CW
  • PAPERBACKWRITER said on Aug 26, 2008....

    *sighs contentedly*

    A beautiful post, dear moon!

    It gladdens my heart to see you back :)

    <3

    paper ~
  • steppenwolf68 said on Aug 26, 2008....

    Moon, thanks. Thanks! Wonderful words. Yes, and it is wonderful to have this kind of a close relationship with one's own kids. We are very lucky indeed.

    Is peace the sound of one hand clapping? Take care of yourself, Moon, and stay healthy! Ciao

  • moonriver said on Aug 26, 2008....
    hi memyself -- The words and music to "100 years to live" is awesome, don't you think? I kept hearing it on the radio, knew it was by Five4fighting, but didn't pay attention to the words until Miggy sang it that night while playing on the piano.

    "Moonriver" the song? Why, don't you ever get tired of it? One more time I hear the strains of Moonriver, and I'll puke. Sorry, my friend. It just so happened that last month, I associated a few negative stuff with this song, especially the Mantovani version ... :-)

    hi secret -- Yeah, I noticed it too, and gave Beyond prior notice that my next blog would be in a similar tone. Ah... peace... such an elusive dream, especially that one which gives shape to our souls. Dear friend, you can't imagine how your few words have soothed this soul today.

    hi hotman -- I like the way you call me today... moonster... :-) Your words are a soothing balm, dude, but that G word is too much. I surely don't deserve it ... ;-)

    Hey, I have my own secret which I will divulge right now just for you: The original capsulized description of this blog (the few lines under the title) went this way: "Dedicated to young fathers Hotaka and Mr_Box, and father-wannabe Kyle."

    But then I thought, hey, there might be a lot more young fathers and fathers-wannabe out there, so why would I single out only three? Well, I replied to myself, because at least I'm familiar with your blogs, and I know that fatherhood is your big concern. But then I thought again... dammit, when should I stop this habit of perennially re-editing myself??? Lol. So there.

    battycat -- Hey, lady, welcome back to Sc. A lot of us missed you. Thanks for dropping by.

  • queenparanoia said on Aug 26, 2008....
    that was a great post moon... and thank you for sharing us that experience i felt it was my own... by the way dude i miss you... glad youre back... ;-)
  • moonriver said on Aug 26, 2008....
    hi skald -- Thanks for the nice words, my friend. I'm glad your German vacation went well, and that Mr. Full Moon followed you around, reminding you of a certain impertinent fire monkey thousands of miles away.

    hi infernal -- Thanks for the kind words, my friend. Miggy has a lot of emotional growing up to do, compared to what I remember was my state of mind at 21. But he's getting there. My sister is a terrific aunt to him.

    hi cw -- Yes, you are very right about the father-son interaction that goes beyond words. Oh, I could write a dozen blogs about this son of mine -- his very high intelligence, his past emotional woes, his uncanny ability to read minds, his efforts to get back on track. Thanks for dropping by, my friend.

    hi paper -- I'm glad my post had that effect on you. How are you yourself these days, mein freund?

    hi steppen -- Like I said in my comment to secret, peace is such an elusive dream. I rather like this quotation from Nehru: "Peace is a condition of mind brought about by a serenity of soul." Take care too, my friend, and be well!

  • moonriver said on Aug 26, 2008....
    hi queenie -- Thanks for always checking on me, my dear friend. I missed you too. Don't worry too much about being fired from your job. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. There will be other opportunities, and at least now you know what to expect and how to improve.

  • hotaka said on Aug 27, 2008....
    Well, thanks for thinking about me. I am touched. And by the way, what G word? I didn't call you geriatric, did I?
  • steppenwolf68 said on Aug 28, 2008....

    Hi, Moon, again... yes. You have moved something deep in all of us. Guess you hit home with me 'cause I think the greatest thing I have done in my life is to be a Da! Now I know you experiende the same thing. The other day my oldest son, 26, sent me an e from his new posting telling me I am his best friend, best buddy, and best all told. If you haven't had this yet, it will certainly come. And then you will know the meaning of why you lived....  Thanx again 4 your words and insight. Ciao

     

     

  • OscarB said on Aug 28, 2008....
    I so enjoyed reading that...
     
    Thank you :-)
  • lionesss said on Aug 28, 2008....
    that was a pleasure to read, you have a real gift for the way you write ,, brilliant stuff ~~~lionesss x
  • moonriver said on Sep 19, 2008....
    hotman -- you called me genius. i hate that word, more than "geriatric." now you'll gonna have to take up my challenge to race you up to mt. hotaka if and when i find myself in japan. gonna be knockin on your door with my cat boots on and my camp gear on my kelty backpack, dude. we will see who is a gnarled and geriatric genius, grrrr. lol.

    steppen -- ciao my friend. havent read you in a long while. ah so, you know about father-and-son issues. i hope that day comes. miggy and i will have some time together in early october. i miss him so much.

    oscarb -- glad you liked it, lady. watch for the next season's episodes, coming soon on this channel. thanks for dropping by.

    lionesss with a triple s -- thank you for the nice words, lady. glad you liked it.

  • sehnen said on Sep 19, 2008....
    if i had a hundred years left to live, i would l never squander on any neurotypical again.
  • steppenwolf68 said on Sep 24, 2008....
    Hi Moon! I thought I sent you a privat msg telling you we were moving house. Getting back up online has taken much longer than expected. I just got the net up about 5 min ago! The move? A nightmare. And then, yesterday eve I came running in 'cause I forgot my music for rehearsal and what did I see??? My 10 year old cooking milk rice with fresh plumbs for his sister and mother!!! There he was, souvereign at the stove, doing it all. This must have been the same feeling for me as you had when Miggy played the piano for you. How lucky we are, my freind.... how really lucky we are!!!
  • sehnen said on Sep 24, 2008....
    the very end begins to get a bit real on this post, but in general being real seems impossible for you, either in your work or your writing. maybe YOU'RE the delusional one, making history at my expense. no suffering for the love one. quite the opposite. accept reality. sehnen.
  • moonriver said on Oct 02, 2008....
    sehnen -- i will re-read your blogs again, to understand where you're coming from when you wrote the above comments.

    but i will agree with you about the need to accept reality, even though you're have to agree with me too that our perceptions of reality and fantasy, especially the line that divides the two, will often blur into each other and make the process of acceptance blur into the process of working in the direction of hope.

    everyone of us has a neurotic voice inside. we must control it instead of its controlling us, but we must also keep it alive because it has something important to say.

    i hope im making sense here.

    pls comment on my blogs some more. your thoughts are always welcome here.

    steppen -- sorry, my friend, i didnt read (didnt notice? didnt receive?) the private msg. you moved to a new city? wow... pls send more details via PM. i can imagine the scene... a 10-yr old trying his hand on the kitchen stove. do everything to encourage him. you are indeed a lucky father... :-)

  • steppenwolf68 said on Oct 03, 2008....

    Hi Moon! I can only agree with you. You do understand reality and are able to sense the beautiful moments life sometimes gives us. You are not disillusioned, but hopeful. There is a saying in German: Die Hoffnung sirbt zu letzt (Hope is the last thing to die.)

    And you, Moon, give - at least to me - the hope that mankind does have a kind and beautiful side. And what gives us our raison d'étre if it's not our kids?

     

  • steppenwolf68 said on Oct 07, 2008....

    Moon, sorry! I just saw my spelling error: that's what comes from writing during the wee hours of the morning... it's être !!!

    And I just thought of the other gem regarding hope.. The French say that where there is life, there is hope!  Sent u a PM. Hope it gets there. Ciao, friend...

  • moonriver said on Oct 07, 2008....
    hi steppen -- i was a bit surprised by your 3-day comment, sorry i missed it, my friend.  Die Hoffnung sirbt zu letzt -- what a beautiful saying. I read a chinese friend write it this way: When we have lost everything, we still push on, driven by nothing except furious hope. i got your pm. i'll reply to it in a little while. thanks again!

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