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"Adam's always been kind of the most avant-garde and unorthodox as a musician." -- Edge |
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"Adam's always been kind of the most avant-garde and unorthodox as a musician." -- Edge |
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Like a Song: Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
@U2,
February 04, 2008
[Ed. note: This is the fourteenth in a series of personal essays by the @U2 staff about songs and/or albums that have had great meaning or impact in our lives.]
 My father suffered two massive heart attacks in February and March 2007. Up until that time, my father was a very strong man. Even though he had smoked for most of his 70 years of life, he was in good health and was rarely sick. He was an avid walker and gardener. So, when he collapsed suddenly one night and we discovered he had a heart attack, the whole family was shocked and thrown into a tailspin. How could this be happening? Seeing my father in the cardiac intensive care unit was surreal. I couldn't believe that my dad, whom I had never seen in a hospital in my life, was suddenly dependent on machines to help him breathe. My family and I spent days in the hospital, taking turns visiting dad and supporting each other. I wanted desperately to find answers to my many questions, but I also had to prepare myself for the worst-case scenario: what if my dad died? While sitting in the waiting room one afternoon, I had a rare moment by myself and decided to put my iPod on shuffle and find solace in music. As my luck would have it, the first song that came up was "Sometimes You Can't Make It on Your Own." My first instinct was to skip the song altogether. I didn't want to hear a song Bono had composed for his late father and their relationship. That was too real. Too raw. I always had a hard time listening to the song because it made me think of my relationship with my father in the first place, and the last thing I needed at that moment in time was to listen to a song that would bring all of that into focus. But, as Edge's guitar gently played, I didn't press the skip button. I knew that listening to this song would help me deal with all of the craziness that was surrounding me. I closed my eyes and let the sound of Bono's voice help me in one of the darkest times of my life. Tough, you think you've got the stuff You're telling me and everyone you're hard enough My father had a difficult childhood. He carried these painful memories with him into adulthood. While he was a loving and caring father to my siblings and I, he was not shown unconditional love in his formative years. As a result, there was a hardness to him that would come out during moments of stress or high emotion. It's no wonder that as I sat in the waiting room I also tried to steel myself against something frightening and scary that I couldn't control or wish away. My friends knew that my father had had a heart attack, but I kept assuring them that I was OK, that I was with family and being taken care of, and not to worry about me. What an absurd thing to say! Of course I wasn't OK! My father was fighting for his life, and here I was trying to tell everyone I was OK, as if I had just misplaced my keys or something. Listen to me now. I need to let you know you don't have to go it alone. As the song progressed, tears began to flow. All of the emotions that I had kept bottled up inside erupted, and I was a wet, slobbery mess. I cried for the fear of losing my dad before I was ready to say goodbye. I cried for my mother losing her husband of over 40 years. The more I thought about it, the more worked up and excited I got until I heard Bono cutting through all the noise in my head, assuring me that I wasn't alone. There was much to be afraid of, yes, but now was the time to make peace with my dad and to let everything that had stood between us before this moment dissolve away to start with a clean slate. As the song continued, I went along for the journey and took stock of my relationship with my dad. We fight all the time You and I...that's all right We're the same soul Like Bono, I was more like my dad than I cared to admit for much of my life. I always identified my dad with the qualities that weren't always complimentary, like stubbornness and a quick temper. There are many happy memories of my childhood with my dad, but there are also memories of clashes and conflict over a number of issues, as I struggled to find my own voice and independence. I wanted my dad's approval and I wanted him to be proud of me, but I also disagreed with him. I was afraid that he wouldn't love me if I didn't always bring home good grades, or agree with him politically, or be the child I thought he wanted me to be. It wasn't until well into my adult years that I understood that my dad wanted me to be myself, because he understood how difficult it was to stand up to his parents and be at odds with them. Can you hear me when I sing? You're the reason I sing You're the reason why the opera is in me My dad was not a lover of opera, but he did teach me his love of sports, especially baseball and football; how to catch fish with Velveeta cheese; how to be a great storyteller; how to be a loyal and trustworthy friend; how to fill your life with purpose and strength of character; and how to have an open and caring heart. He's the reason I have a rascally spirit, because he had the same one. One of the greatest compliments I ever received in my life was my dad telling me that I had a kind heart just like he did and that he recognized it as his own. Where are we now? Don't leave me here alone The closing shot of SYCMIOYO in U2 3D is of Bono reaching out to hug his dad. This was the most touching and most powerful moment of the film for me. My father passed away in his sleep on Oct. 28, 2007. I never got to say goodbye. I wish I could hug my dad one more time and tell him I loved him. I wish we could share a laugh or watch sports together again. I wish he would be able to walk me down the aisle when I marry, or hold my children when they are born. There are times when I feel like a child, stamping my foot at the injustice I feel about having to celebrate important milestones in my life without him, and it angers and saddens me at the same time. And it's you when I look in the mirror And it's you that makes it hard to let go When I hit these moments of despair, when the depression over my dad's death threatens to cripple me, I realize my dad will always be around, because he left so much of himself within me. There are times when I look at pictures and I see dad's mannerisms in the way I pose, or the way I smile; or I find myself delivering a punch line in the very same tone he would use. I'm thankful to have these gentle reminders of his life with me. For many years, it was hard for me to emotionally let go of the fighting and disagreements we had. Once the heart attacks happened, and I had to face his mortality, it made it hard to let go of him physically. I finally understood the sacrifices he made in his own life to provide for his family and that much of our fighting came from frustration on his end to understand the daughter he loved so deeply, but could not always find the right words to express it. The best you can do is to fake it. I used to wonder why Bono would pen and then perform such a personal song. I marveled at his strength to sing that song every night and put himself in such an emotional place in the middle of a concert. The song makes me cry every time I hear it. How in the world could Bono sing without breaking down? But, now that I have had to deal with the loss of a parent, I understand his need to be open about his feelings and to share them with others. I've found it's the only real way to honor the memory of the loved one lost and heal those of us who are left behind. My initial reaction to dad's death was to talk about my feelings only with my family. I didn't want to keep reliving everything by telling and re-telling the story to friends who I knew wanted to support me, but didn't know what was going on. I used to avoid listening to the song at all costs, but now take great comfort in it, knowing that I am not alone in my sorrow, nor in the support from people who love and care about me. The song is as much a reminder of the struggle with my dad as it is a song about opening yourself up to others when you are at your most vulnerable place in life. Sometimes you can't make it on your own. I miss you, dad, but I hear you when I laugh; I feel you when I hug others; and I see you when I smile. © @U2/Tomooka, 2008.
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