"Men hej pappa", tänkte jag omedelbart, även om bilden inte alls är porträttlik (han hade varken tomteluva eller spetsig näsa), så fångar den tveklöst det sanna i hans hållning, utstrålning och personlighet. Ett livgivande skuggbesök via clownen, som sitter på vårt sovrumsfönster:
Strax efteråt, när jag satte min mp3-spelare på shuffle, började Leonard Cohen sjunga "Suzanne" och jag insåg plötsligt att den låten, som jag lyssnade en hel del på i tonåren, delvis handlar om mig och min mamma.
"There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever"
Ett tack till min vän Bruno, som skickat mig boken "Från andra sidan" om soldaten Ritchies upplevelser, när han var dödförklarad under nio minuter. Läsningen av den tror jag bidrog till min fina och lekfulla morgonupplevelse.
Och Bruno kan å sin sida säkert uppskatta Cohens Jesusreferenser.
"And Jesus was a sailor
....
Only drowning men could see him"
Leonard Cohen har jag för övrigt gärna som en fadersgestalt och inspirationskälla i åldrandet. Och jag har ingen svårighet att känna att jag deltog i hans bejublade konsert i Globen i torsdags, trots att jag låg hemma i sängen långt norr om Stockholm.
Låten "Going home" från hans senaste skiva "Old ideas" ska spelas på min begravning.
I love to speak with Leonard
He’s a sportsman and a shepherd
He’s a lazy bastard
Living in a suit
But he does say what I tell him
Even though it isn’t welcome
He just doesn’t have the freedom
To refuse
He will speak these words of wisdom
Like a sage, a man of vision
Though he knows he’s really nothing
But the brief elaboration of a tube
Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before
Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore
He wants to write a love song
An anthem of forgiving
A manual for living with defeat
A cry above the suffering
A sacrifice recovering
But that isn’t what I need him
to complete
I want to make him certain
That he doesn’t have a burden
That he doesn’t need a vision
That he only has permission
To do my instant bidding
Which is to SAY what I have told him
To repeat
Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before
Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore
I love to speak with Leonard
He’s a sportsman and a shepherd
He’s a lazy bastard
Living in a suit
He’s a sportsman and a shepherd
He’s a lazy bastard
Living in a suit
But he does say what I tell him
Even though it isn’t welcome
He just doesn’t have the freedom
To refuse
He will speak these words of wisdom
Like a sage, a man of vision
Though he knows he’s really nothing
But the brief elaboration of a tube
Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before
Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore
He wants to write a love song
An anthem of forgiving
A manual for living with defeat
A cry above the suffering
A sacrifice recovering
But that isn’t what I need him
to complete
I want to make him certain
That he doesn’t have a burden
That he doesn’t need a vision
That he only has permission
To do my instant bidding
Which is to SAY what I have told him
To repeat
Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before
Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore
I love to speak with Leonard
He’s a sportsman and a shepherd
He’s a lazy bastard
Living in a suit