Wish You Were Here

There is a succinct phrase Mark uses to describe death and one of his philosophies about it; I first heard him mention it when my Mom died and he says it comes from an old movie, although I have never found the reference. The phrase is: “You’re not here, you’re here, you’re not here.”

Somehow this links in with an earworm I’ve had for the past few weeks: the classic Pink Floyd tune circa 1975, “Wish You Were Here, ” by David Gilmour (music) and Roger Waters (lyrics). To me this is a song about the despair and grief you feel when someone you deeply love is not really there anymore—even when they might be right next to you.

The song begins with the sound of a woman’s voice on the radio and what sounds like a twist of the knob, scanning the channels, classical music, a search for a better station. Then strumming begins on a 12-string acoustic guitar, quietly scratchy at first as though over the radio. The sound seems to floating across a lake late at night. It gets a little louder and another guitar joins in with the lead. Finally the song starts:

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears,
Wish you were here.

Listen to it sometime. I swear it is a song about two people together but apart: "Wish You Were Here.” At the end, you can hear the lonely sound of wind scouring a desert or moor (or perhaps the dark side of the moon).

You’re not here, you’re here, you’re not here.