“I don’t plan to have children.” I said; the things we speak of when making small talk with coworkers, small candy-sized pieces of daily life, religion, and politics we share to fill the void.
He chuckled and glanced away from the road for a moment, “Neither did I.”
“It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. Children are our immorality. But, for me…” For me, I didn’t see myself being in a situation where child raising was an option.
He nodded, “You know what it is for me? Fatherhood?” He left enough space for me to speak, but it was an artificial pause, a politeness, “When I’m out driving, I’m not anyone. When I’m walking the neighborhood, I’m just a guy, no one of any real significance. When I’m at work, I’m not the boss. Even my boss isn’t the boss. We all report to someone. I pay my taxes, but I don’t really get to decide where all that money goes.”
“But when I get home every night and my two kids see me, their faces light up. I’m it. I’m the man. I’m everything to these two kids. They run up to me and wrap their arms around my legs, look up at me, and there is nothing but trust and love in their eyes.” He made the turn into the gate that led to work. “I know it won’t last forever. They’ll hit fourteen or fifteen and I’ll be the bad guy for a while, but until then…” He parked and turned to me. “Until then I know there is one place where I am someone, no matter what else is going on in my life.”
A simple and beautiful truth. For a small slice of life, those eyes look up into your face and they see the whole world reflected back at them. You are everything to that infant, that toddler, that schoolgirl. They trust you to do what’s right for them; they trust you to nourish and sustain them; they trust you to give that what it takes to lead full and rewarding lives. It’s a huge responsibility and it has huge benefits.
You’d make a wonderful father, D. Sometimes the best things happen when you stray off the path you’ve chosen. That’s often where wonders are discovered.
As a mother, having a child changed my life. You truly are everything to them. I imagine the same would go for fathers too.
Maybe reconsider?
xoxo,
nina
A beautiful post. But this is why I don’t want to be a mother. I can’t be be everything to anyone, and know I will eventually disappoint.
If you truly know, in your heart and soul, that you are not meant to be a parent, then live by that knowledge and don’t swerve.
I do not know with absolute certainty that I should not be a parent. I know that now, in this place, I am too selfish to commit myself to that path and too proud to devote myself to anything less than a hundred percent. I’ve maintained my equilibrium by the deliberate choices I’ve made in my life and leaving all else to chance. I’ve made a few of these, steel poles of ideas, and I let the chaos of the world in around them.
Then too, I will have plenty of nephews and nieces to keep me entertained over the next ten years. I plan to corrupt every one of them in the best possible way.
Darling,
Being a parent is an awesome responsibility. It’s also a glimpse into your truest and best self.
Someday, I imagine, you’ll understand what I am talking about. Until then, continue to explore all the world has to offer you.
Smooch.
Bn’B
Ka Blam. Nail on the head.
Is it worth all the agony (yes, as I parent I reserve my given right to use the word agony without shame) to raise them, just to revel in the fleeting feeling of being a diety?
Oh yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Ask me that on a bad day, and I will still grudgingly say yes.