My father had a stroke around the same time that my adolescent sons introduced me to Tool and to this song. While my Dad was in rehab, and then finally at home but weak, partially paralyzed and ultimately dying of cancer, I listed to the song hundreds of times, over and over, often as I walked through the quiet house in the middle of the night. The song seemed to me to reflect exactly what I was feeling.

One night while Dad was still alive, I found myself driving home late at night, through fog and drizzle. I put the song on as loud as possible and sang my way home, crying with grief, joy, anger and denial.

You are a wonderful writer; I read you as often as my heart can manage it. Sending you wishes for peace, healing and love.

Do you know Keenan's version of Fiddle and Drum? Another favorite.