Jon Barker

On December 20th 2005 my Dad was gravely ill in hospital, it was touch and go if he would make it to Christmas. His kidneys had failed, he had pneumonia and he was becoming weaker by the hour. He was transferred to a special unit in Bristol where he started to recover. Lisa, my wife and I had 2 young children & wanted a quick New Year break. Dad assured me that he was fine and told us to ‘get ourselves off.’ In the numerous calls home during our break, my Mum said he was Ok, an not to worry.

When got home my heart sank when I saw a letter addressed to me in my Dad’s handwriting. We put the kids to bed & I opened the letter, it was a single page letter written on lined hospital paper.

It had an air of finality about it and I could see the effort he put into holding the pen to write it. In the simple page of lined hospital notepaper, he wrote of how much he thought of my music and how he wanted the world to hear it. ‘If it doesn't, it will be the World’s loss.’ I went to bed that night, but couldn’t sleep. My Dad was born and raised in a time when men didn’t express their feelings. This led me to think that as he had opened up to me a little, then he must be thinking that he was going to die soon.

I went to my piano in the early hours and soon a song fell into my head. It was as if the song was already written & it was my job to write it down. I cried with each new line. If it was my Dad’s time to go, I wanted him to know how I felt, and above all else to thank him for everything.

Though I have written and recorded literally hundreds of original songs, I have never had a song that was so ‘complete’ in my head.

I sent a recording of the song to my parents’ home in Gloucestershire.

The next day I went to see my Dad. He was pleased to see me, but somehow knew that things didn’t look great for him. I tried not to show how shocked I was to see this once proud, well-groomed man, now much thinner, with a grey complexion and covered in grey stubbly whiskers. But he was still my Dad and I was determined for him to hear my song. To hear his song.

Music was so much part of his life, I wasn't too surprised to see that he had his headphones connected to a CD player. I told him that I’d written him a song. His face lit up and asked if he could hear it. I put the CD into the machine and helped put the headphones on his head. I pressed play. I watched him listening to the song. His eyes filled with tears. At the end of the song, through the tears he said, ‘Thank you.’ I hugged him and told him that he had to get himself better.

Over the course of the next few weeks, minor miracles started to occur. Dad started to get better. Slowly, but surely he regained his strength. His health stabilised and despite dialysis he left hospital and was able to live a new kind of life at home with Mum.

Was my little song part of his recovery, I will never know. Was it the catalyst? I will never know. But what I do know is that he enjoyed another seven years with his family. David, my Father lived until March 1st (St. David’s Day) 2013. Every year, when I see the first daffodil of Spring, I always think of him. Every year, I light a candle and play this song on his birthday. May 10th.

I hope that in some small way his song might mean something to you too.

Jon Barker – 2019