MP3 4.1 MB
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4:31 minutes

Most things happen because we make them happen. But some things happen because they're meant to happen. This song was meant to happen, and I'll tell you why. I'm an attorney, not a professional musician or songwriter. But this song came to me on its own and I had no choice but to see it through. My mother asked me to write a song for a Veterans Day program she organized last year, but I was studying for the bar exam at the time and had neither the time nor the expertise to write it. I knew better than to turn down my mom, so I agreed. In the middle of some awful contract law the lyrics flowed into my mind like a waterfall. I poured them on a page, and that night the melody followed in similar fashion. I had my song. It was meant to happen.

“Remembering” by David Vassilaros Copyright June 2007 I had just turned 10 when I saw the wall, And I asked my dad what all the names were for. He said “Son, they’re for remembering.” Waving high in the air I saw the red, white, and blue, And I asked my dad if it was special too. He said “Son, it’s for remembering.” I looked up at my daddy’s face And I wondered what it was about this place As that strong man’s eyes filled up with tears, He held me like he’d done for all his years And he wouldn’t let go. No, he couldn’t let go. ‘Cuz he was remembering. He was remembering. I grew up and went on with life, Found a real good job and the sweetest wife But I always called home, just for remembering. A couple kids of my own brought my dad to town, When their Grandpa talked all the boys sat down To hear about when he was young—He was remembering. He said, “When I was eight my daddy had to leave, He put a uniform on and sailed out to sea. My momma cried and prayed he’d be alright, And I held a picture of him every night.” “And I wouldn’t let go. No I couldn’t let go ‘Cuz I was remembering. I was remembering.” “He loved his wife, and he loved his life. But he loved his country, too. When a man is called to serve, It’s what a man has got to do.” He said, “A soldier with a flag came to our door, And I asked my momma what it was for. She said “Son, it’s for remembering.” “Your daddy’s gone, he won’t be coming home, But he sent you this for your very own So as the years pass by…you can remember him.” The grandsons’ bedtime was coming soon, But their grandpa had one last thing to do. He took those boys in his arms and held them tight, Kissed them on the head and said “Goodnight.” And he wouldn’t let go. No, he couldn’t let go. ‘Cuz he was remembering. He was remembering.