Cats in the Cradle
Harry Chapin
I've never been "the perfect father." Work always came first in my life. I was good at work, good at numbers, good at telling other people what to do. I only did what I was good at.
My son Will grew up while I was at the office. I missed his first steps, his baseball games, his high school graduation even. But he didn't seem to mind. All he ever said was, "Dad, I'm gonna be just like you!"
I always thought I could make up for lost time when I retired. I could be the loving father as soon as money stopped being an issue, I said to myself. Now I'm there. My time to be a father is now, or so I thought. It's much harder than I realized. Will's got his own family now. He doesn't have time for his "old man."
As I sit in bed, I think about what I could've done differently as a father. It wouldn't have taken much effort, just a game of catch here and an ice cream cone there. But if I had done those things, my son would be with me right now. I wouldn't be dying alone.
Too bad I can't pick up the phone and call him. After all, the hospital's only 3 blocks away from his house. But 3 blocks is too much to ask from a boy who grew up without a father.
