As I look back over my life,
And ruminate upon what might have been,
I have but one regret, for my son, John.
Could I have seen that what I did to make life sweeter For him, made it bitter, ah, what I’d have done
To heal the wound, to ease the pain.
Do you not know how much I love you, John, my son? Strange little boy, whose mind was in the clouds,
You lived life on a planet far away.
You dreamed exciting dreams and told them all to me, Had tenuous connection with the people in your day. I should have left you as you were,
Have let you be what you would be.
I was afraid for you, my darling, in world’s harsh reality. I brought you down to earth, tried to make you see That you were different, had to be as others were.
You became as others were. You lost your dreams, And then your love for me, and lost your faith
In all humanity.
I’m afraid I broke your spirit, my dear son,
When I forced you to survive.
I would take it back now if I could,
If it’s not too late, while I’m alive.
I would give this world, give every dream I ever had To know that you are happy, that I haven’t left a scar That will not heal. I don’t know where you are.
I pushed you into life, forced you to survive
For a daughter and a wife. Have you lost them?
Could you strive on alone without someone to love you And accept you as you are? I pray that you
Have found in daughter Anna a love that’s strong and true, And that your wife has understood and is standing by you, too. I ask not for forgiveness. I just want peace of mind In knowing that in forcing you to find
Your way in this cruel world I have done no untold harm. Your vague, dreamy unworldliness as a boy,
To me your mother was the essence of your charm, But others laughed and mocked and scorned.
Others told me of the dangers, and they warned
That you had to live with others on this planet,
Become aware of harsh reality within it.
I thought that if you loved and lost,
Were better than never to have known its bliss, But now I wonder if a broken heart is worth the cost, Might have plunged you in grief’s desperate abyss. Ah, John, my son, it’s not to know,
That leaves me aching for you.
You would gladly let me grieve, I know.
You hurt and think I do not love you,
And want to hurt me in return.
I hurt for you, but cannot do a thing
To take the pain away from you,
Must live my life and just be strong,
Forgive myself mistakes long-gone,
And always be there for you.