I've been in an introspective mood recently, as I often get when I am going through a black phase. Don't worry, this isn't going to be another 'woe is me' type of article, it's just some musings I've had running around in my head today.
Near me is a pharmacy which, along with the normal pharmacy type stuff it does, also is a methadone centre. There is a separate door for the addicts to go to, they go in, one at a time, get their methadone, and then leave. It's on a junction, so when I'm in the car, going somewhere, I quite often see people going in or out, and I generally don't pay much notice, however, today, when I was on my way out to Dunfermline, as I was waiting at the junction, I saw a kid who couldn't have been more than 4 or 5, standing waiting, then just before I was able to exit the junction, the door opened and a guy came out, grabbed the kid and then started walking away.
This had some strange resonance with me, the thought of the kid, who I assume was the son of the guy who came out of the methadone centre, what his life must be like, and it made me kind of sad. I don't have kids, and it looks like I never will, and I think it was that thought being triggered in my head by the scene which played itself out in front of me, which caused me to not be able to stop thinking about it.
I vacillated for years on the subject of having kids. Sadly, now that I have finally decided that I would have liked to have been a father, the point is moot - I am single, have been for some time, and there are no signs of that changing any time soon. The fleeting years are, indeed, slipping by (which is what the Latin of the title means, it's a quote by Horace). The cynic in me thinks that I've decided that I would have liked to have been a father now that there is no possibility of that happening, that if I really wanted to be a parent, then it would have happened during one of my meaningful relationships. The other side of me argues that it didn't happen in any of those relationships because, had I been more honest with myself at the time, I knew that they were doomed to failure. That, however, is a whole different topic, one which I have no doubt I will return to at some point!
I should probably say at this point, I am not looking for sympathy, I'm not looking for pity, I'm not looking for anything, really. The realist in me thinks that it's probably for the best that I avoided fatherhood, the chances are I'd be a terrible dad. Would I really want to inflict any of my less than positive traits on a poor innocent kid? On reflection, it's probably for the best, yet, I can't shake the feeling of sadness that I am missing out on something which may just have been the thing to make me finally happy.
The irrational part of me wants to rail against the world, wants to shout out how unfair life is, that junkies, alcoholics, the dregs of society, always seem to have tribes of children (and I just want to clarify - I'm not having a go at single parents, even young ones, in my experience they constitute some of the happiest, and closest families I've known), yet I, someone who works hard (well, works), doesn't do drugs, doesn't spend all his time drunk, tries to live as good and honest a life as I can, doesn't get to experience that joy, a joy which drug addicts and alcoholics generally won't appreciate. But then, the rational part of me wins out, as it always does, and reminds me that I don't have children because of my own actions, because of the bad decisions I have made in the past, both distant and recent, because I always seem to find a way to mess things up, thanks to the invisible self-destruct button which I have somewhere. A look at the last few weeks of my life are a testament to how much I can mess things up! So, ultimately, I won't get to experience the gamut of emotions which comes with being a parent through my own fault, no one else's.
When I'm visiting my friend Ian, and I see the interaction he has with his sons, I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Which is probably as good a place to end this little article. I guess the few readers I have would be a tad disappointed if I didn't leave with a Springer Moment. So, my words of wisdom tonight are this:
Actually, I don't know what my words of wisdom will be. I have half formed platitudes in my head, but when I go to write them down, they seem twee and contrite. So, I will keep it short and simple - enjoy your kids, your family, for you are lucky to have them, and them you.
No comments:
Post a Comment