Just stopped by to say
hello.
You remembered me.
Always.
The first phone call.
The end for the little
guy
was at hand.
The long battle was over
…
the cancer had won.
The second phone call.
It came a few days later.
Funeral arrangements
had been made,
it would be on Sunday,
June 3.
You were upset.
The final phone calls,
on the afternoon of June
4.
The money was gone.
You were told that with
the battle being over,
there was no reason to stay
in Irvine any longer.
You were frantic,
only $812 per month
in SDI to live on.
You were not invited
to make the move
to San Francisco.
$150,000 gone
in just two years.
You didn’t want
to be homeless.
There was panic
in your voice.
I said calm down,
let me think.
The money
can’t be gone,
it’s there,
let’s think about it.
You couldn’t remember.
The drugs made
everything a fog.
If … if … if …
If I knew then,
what I know now,
I would have asked
to pick you up
for lunch the next day.
That would have
stopped everything.
But I didn't.
If … if … if …
If I knew then,
what I know now,
I would have picked
you up and taken
you straight to the
emergency room
at the nearest hospital.
You were dying of
congestive heart failure.
The lack of oxygen
to your brain,
coupled with the unrelenting
regiment of drugs
created such confusion for you.
You didn’t know it.
No one knew it.
It was just
sundown dementia.
It was just the booze.
I didn't pick you up.
If … if … if …
If I knew then,
what I know now,
I would have asked
you for your bank
records.
I would have done an audit.
I would have sent a copy
to your brother in Las
Vegas
so that he could
have done one as well.
He tried to help
after Fran left us.
But he was blocked.
But I didn't
I didn’t do any
of those things.
Instead, I told you that
you were not alone
and that I loved
you.
You said you loved me
too.
Let’s talk; let me think.
We said goodbye.
A minute later
the phone rang,
I answered it and you
said
that you just wanted
to hear my voice
one more time.
I didn’t think anything
of it.
You had done that before.
You were funny that way.
The phone rang again.
Hang up.
The phone rang again.
Hang up.
The phone rang again.
Hang up.
The phone did
not ring
again.
You then proceeded
to take control of your
life.
The Seroquel.
The Keppra.
The Prozac.
The Seproxetine.
All you could find.
It haunts me still.
It hurts so much.
So much I could
have done ...
but I didn’t.
If … if … if …
If I knew then,
what I know now,
I would be
so much smarter.
But that’s not
the way life works.
That’s my guilt.
My pain.
Others have their own.
On some days it is
so hard to celebrate a
life
when the sadness
overwhelms.
This is one
of those mornings.
This is one
of those days.
Have a tune for you today
“Don't
confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them”
… enjoy.
Well I've been out walking
I don't do that much talking these days
These days-
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
For you
And all the times I had the chance to
And I had a lover
It's so hard to risk another these days
These days-
Now if I seem to be afraid
To live the life I have made in song
Well it's just that I've been losing so long
I'll keep on moving
Things are bound to be improving these days
These days-
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten, my friend
Don't confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them
