I recently heard “Another Day in Paradise” by Phil Collins, which I hadn’t heard since the 80s when I was a kid. It immediately brought back memories of being at home and Mom playing that song a lot, with just the two of us in the house, after Dad left.
Looking back at those memories through my adult eyes (I have a nearly-photographic memory and can vividly remember even ancient memories as if I’m still there), I can see my mom’s sadness and loneliness.
And then I realize she was my age. She had a little five year old boy. She was alone, unsure what to do. Putting on a smiling face not just for me but for herself too, cleaning the house with that song blasting. Like, I can watch the memories like video and I can see the heartache I couldn’t see back then.
I just want to go back in time, wrap my arms around her, and hold her tight.
Oh my god this is so true.
I recently heard “Another Day in Paradise” by Phil Collins, which I hadn’t heard since the 80s when I was a kid. It immediately brought back memories of being at home and Mom playing that song a lot, with just the two of us in the house, after Dad left.
Looking back at those memories through my adult eyes (I have a nearly-photographic memory and can vividly remember even ancient memories as if I’m still there), I can see my mom’s sadness and loneliness.
And then I realize she was my age. She had a little five year old boy. She was alone, unsure what to do. Putting on a smiling face not just for me but for herself too, cleaning the house with that song blasting. Like, I can watch the memories like video and I can see the heartache I couldn’t see back then.
I just want to go back in time, wrap my arms around her, and hold her tight.
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