So, the 200th post - coinciding with something positive, the most meaningful part of my life - the 18th birthday of my / our son.
There was an article in a newspaper some time ago - Confidant: 147: Interesting thoughts on a Common Theme – even Dr Who has doubts!! (dear-confidant.blogspot.com). Having just re-read it, quite a lot resonates but I particularly like,
'What does love feel like?
I think I’ve only really experienced it on a parental level, and it feels like the rhythm of nature'
I freely admit that I don't feel as if I have been a fun dad. But I have been fortunate enough to have been a present one and, hopefully, a loving one. When our son was younger, I would be the one he wanted to have sleep next to him or read to him rather than his mother. It would be to me that he would turn for comfort.
When my wife and I had something of a reconciliation - Confidant: 99 – A Dramatic Turnaround (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) - I wondered if it was because of his actions - Confidant: 100: Why the Turnaround? (dear-confidant.blogspot.com). I guess I will never know.
I am rationalising to myself of course for my lack of true (material and prestige) success but, overall, I think I have lived the life I would have wanted - ok at work, time for home. And he has been the golden light for the last eighteen years - Confidant: 114 - Dear Son - a letter to say 'thanks' (dear-confidant.blogspot.com)
Look, what I have 'suffered' are first world problems - I am not rich but I am relatively comfortable, I was born into a good family, I have not suffered bad health, work issues have, so far, resolved themselves. But that is not, however, to minimise the real issues that I have had with my wife and led to Confidant: 72: Counselling - why? (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and much else besides.
But without her I would not have him.
Forget the 18 years. Even that one moment when he might wake up next to me and start the day with that beaming smile would be enough to make up for a thousand lifetimes of misery. Or when I would get home and hear a shout of 'baba!' from somewhere in the house and this whirling dervish would skim across the floor and jump into my arms.
It has been an emotional few days and I have often found myself on the verge of tears. I love him with all my heart and I tell him that often. I wish him well in his endeavours as he comes near to finishing school. And I thank him - to head back to the start - for teaching me what love is.
I have tried my best, son. I apologise for the mistakes and thank you for having been the son you are.
