’Reconcile’ – from the album “Jade” (Sony Music Canada, Words&Music by Corey Hart Produced by Corey Hart. Mixed by Humberto Gatica, May 1998 Nassau, The Bahamas.)
This song encompasses many colours of the emotional palette. Some bright, others darkly muted, conflicted. A coming of age ode written for my father.
Did he ever hear the song. No. Did he ever empathize. Probably not. Would he really care anyways…?. I will never know.
He died in 2003 a few weeks shy of his 83rd birthday alone in his bedroom as he wished it to be.
I never played him the song because by the time I had written ´Reconcile´ I was no longer seeking the idealistic dreams of my lost youth in quest of a father’s approbation. it was too late.
I never hated because this emotion is toxic. I simply never understood how his own child did not carry enough importance for him to even play a marginal focus of his life.
How could it be that I mattered so little to him. Never a goodnight kiss, nor talks along the roadside, nor sharing defeats or triumphs. Never once did I hear the three words I yearned the most. ‘ I love you’.
‘ along the beach i never collected shells from my father’s shore’
‘when i was 22 years old i thought i owned what made me sad but you can’t trade silver or buy with gold for the times you never had’
´truth is it’s just too late to really make a start’ ‘ ‘ it’s all about the choices you make I will never, I will never understand’.
We are all not destined to become parents. It is not innately built into our DNA’s. I have many close friends who chose not to have children because they responsibly acknowledged the sacrifices involved recognizing it simply wasn’t cut out for them.
emancipation, freedom, acceptance, forgiveness, ‘ reconcile’ All easier said than done I learned. I am not bitter. In a strange twist of fate my father may have given me the sweetest lesson of my life. Dedicate yourself to the children. Be there for them when patience is worn thin. Listen to them when you can´t find enough space in your own brain to hear your thoughts anymore. He taught me not to be like him.
I am the youngest of the 5 Hart siblings. My father’s name was Bert. My mother’s Mina. I rarely saw him as my parents marriage dissolved when I was a young boy.
I bumped about the world from the age of 5 to 12 traveling Spain, Mexico, Florida,Montreal, and despite caravan crisscrossing the globe, the one constant dynamic remained my father was invisible. Never a physical presence except for fleeting scattered memories.
Why did I need to ´Reconcile´this hurt. Why did I write the song.- well It made me feel better. Music always makes me feel better. So this song is my healing.
I am sure my father cared in his misguided manner which he believed was righteous by providing materially for our family. He would sometimes rub my hand with his palm telling me it would bring me good luck. I thank him for the good luck. I have been blessed with so much.
But reconciling is a hard rationale. Logic often defies emotions. Pain cannot be dissected like a mathematical equation which equals to = zero.
This inside the music is perhaps delving deeper into my personal history than you all bargained for. But I trust you with these thoughts. We all have our own crosses to bear.
The guitar playing on this track is exquisite. All performed by Michael Thompson. A genuine impressionistic artist of the highest caliber. Thanks Michael for gracing this song.
One last comment on ´Reconcile´ which actually transcends the music. It is not simple or easy to make peace. History has proven to us time and again that compromise & goodwill towards one other is not majority rule but an ever elusive pursuit. I am not lecturing. We are all on the same playing field.
I usually sign off my FB posts with´peace´or ´one love´ because despite all the intricate details that make us all complex individuals, we all share common humanity.
Please let´s keep the CH FB wall a home for freedom of expression in all it’s colours,shapes and forms. Let’s take the high road. We may not consistently see eye to eye but mutual respect renders petty differences or jealousies to the barren hinterlands where they rightfully belong.
one love. smile.
happy new year 2012
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