Three Times In The Classifieds: That copies of the 'Motorhead' Babylon book were on the shelf in a local music shop was one of the last things I told my Mum before she died in December 1981. The book caused a minor flutter in the local paper, too, where a photo accompanied a review and a write-up. Like Mum, Dad was proud enough to say; 'Well done my son, you have achieved something far greater than your Mother and I ever did; as we'll only be in the paper 3 times; in the Births, the Marriages and the Deaths.
But when Mum died, I cried buckets, but when Dad died 21 year's later I didn't and still haven't shed a tear. You see, he spent those years in deep regret; and he regretted not ever going food shopping at the supermarket with her, and not knowing how to use the cooker or washing machine, and a thousand other things he'd left her to do; but he had to learn.
But most of all he regretted the years 1939 to 1945, because he had spent them away from her fighting a war of which he said, 'hopefully, none of the future generations will have to waste their lives doing!' Most of all, though, he would dearly have loved to have had those 6 years given back; 6 years when they were both young, when she was beautiful and he was handsome, and they were both besotted with one another.
But unfortunately, time is like money, and once you've spent it you're never going to get it back. And the reason why I didn't and still haven't shed any tears for him, is because he spent those 21 years wishing he could die, just to be with her again; and when he went, I felt happy because finally he'd made it, and his life and death were now complete.
It is such a tragedy that history repeats itself, and our troops are still spending valuable weeks, months and years away from their families and loved ones; and many not coming home at all. One day, mankind will realise he must stop fighting what he regards as 'the enemy,' and start working together to fight for the survival of our planet; for 'the real enemy' is that we are running out of time to save it.
But when Mum died, I cried buckets, but when Dad died 21 year's later I didn't and still haven't shed a tear. You see, he spent those years in deep regret; and he regretted not ever going food shopping at the supermarket with her, and not knowing how to use the cooker or washing machine, and a thousand other things he'd left her to do; but he had to learn.
But most of all he regretted the years 1939 to 1945, because he had spent them away from her fighting a war of which he said, 'hopefully, none of the future generations will have to waste their lives doing!' Most of all, though, he would dearly have loved to have had those 6 years given back; 6 years when they were both young, when she was beautiful and he was handsome, and they were both besotted with one another.
But unfortunately, time is like money, and once you've spent it you're never going to get it back. And the reason why I didn't and still haven't shed any tears for him, is because he spent those 21 years wishing he could die, just to be with her again; and when he went, I felt happy because finally he'd made it, and his life and death were now complete.
It is such a tragedy that history repeats itself, and our troops are still spending valuable weeks, months and years away from their families and loved ones; and many not coming home at all. One day, mankind will realise he must stop fighting what he regards as 'the enemy,' and start working together to fight for the survival of our planet; for 'the real enemy' is that we are running out of time to save it.
posted by Alan Burridge at 12:00 AM
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