#37 of late

Dear friend, 

It's been a while. Sorry that I have not been keeping in touch. I could give you a whole range of reasons why - but the truth is, it simply hasn't been on my mind. 

What's new? Oh, nothing much. Managed to finish reading a few good books, met up with some old friends. Oh yes, I have a son now. How about that for a life changer eh? I named him Jonathan. He's a handsome little boy. Has his mothers eyes. I've never been particularly fond of babies. I've been known to call babies ugly or uncute when I see one. I call it being honest. Others call it being mean. But when I look at him, my son, I swear - he's the most beautiful thing I've ever set my eyes upon. It's probably a parent's bias, but seriously, he's the cutest boy on earth. Jen tells me she's seeing a whole new side of me she's never seen before. I think she likes making me change diapers. 

I realize that babies have a certain effect on people. People are drawn to babies. It makes them smile and warms their heart just gazing upon a baby. Every time one of my friends holds our newborn, a certain tenderness can be seen in their eyes. A nurturing, loving attitude automatically comes forth when a baby is in your arms. Personally, I start to understand first hand what it means to have a father's heart. I feel in my own heart, the kind of love that you heart people say parents have for their children. When I stare into his eyes and see him staring back into mine with not so much as a blink, my heart melts. Staring at you is pure innocence, in the form of your own flesh and blood. I know there isn't anything I wouldn't do to protect this child. Maybe that's what Jen sees when I'm holding him in my arms. 

Another things I have noticed. With the arrival of Jonathan, some friends have become closer to us, while others seem to become more distant. I cannot say why this is so. Only that it is. Some friends visited or called immediately, eager to catch up on all the details, share in the joy and shower the little one with all sorts of gifts. But others seem to deliberately stay away or distance themselves. Even some that I used to consider close and intimate friends - stay far far away, extending nothing more than a one line facebook comment. It makes me sad it a way. I've never been one to have many friends. The few that I have, I try to cherish. You invest time, effort and care into the friendship, hoping that it builds into something meaningful and lasting. But not all reciprocate it. Honestly, I do feel used sometimes. People like seeking me out when they have problems. They share with me, perhaps hoping that I would be able to give them some sort of insight to help them. For the most part, I love listening and caring for them. It makes me feel close, wanted and cherished by them. I never want them to stop sharing with me. But sometimes, just sometimes - I wish they'd look for me, not just when they have problems, but also when they have some joy to share. I want to be your friend, not your on call counsellor. 

Anyway, enough from me for now dear friend. I started writing a letter to my son - things my heart is bursting to tell him whenever I look into his innocent eyes.. It's unfinished. It's been taking me longer that I expected. But I'll let you read it when its ready. 

#36 Same Old Lang Syne

I'm such a sucker for sentimental stuff. I stumbled upon this song recently and couldn't stop listening to it.

I think its the combination of (what I think) is well written lyrics, nostalgia and a heart felt chorus.

The whole song is in the form of a narration is beautiful and I really love the chorus  "We drank a toast to innocence, we drank a toast to now, and tried to reach beyond the emptiness, but neither one knew how. It was written by the author based on actual experience.

 I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do.

#35 Daddyhood Doubts

Many people have asked me how I feel now that I am on the brink of fatherhood. These 9 months have flown by in what seems like both an eternity and a blink of an eye.  I must say honestly, I’m not really sure. There is a mix of joy and anxiety, happiness and fear. Last night sitting there with my wife, I realized that this would be the last few times we could sit like this - peaceful and quiet, just the two of us. By next week, everything will be different.

A little baby will be born into this world. Half me, half her. Will he have my eyes? Will he have her nose? Will he be serious like me, or cheerful like her? Will he be obedient and gentle? Or will he be willful and loud? It feels exciting waiting for all these things to unfold.  Many couples have said they spend hours staring at their firstborns with love and wonder. I joked with my wife – we’d probably be no different. All parents think their child is possibly the cutest baby ever to be born on earth. Obviously, they haven’t seen ours yet.  

Thinking about my impending fatherhood has made me think a lot about my own father and my relationship with him. Now that I am older, I see many of the strengths and flaws that had made my father who is, and how that affected me. I used to think the world of my father when I was young. He was charming, well spoken, and witty and seemed infinitely wiser. In many of the things that happened to our family, I always felt that it was other people – the bad guys – that did this things to us. I saw my father as a benevolent, noble character. When I grew a bit older, I realized that my father wasn’t as innocent as I first thought. He did things that were less than noble. He cheated, he lied and he abused. I resented him and blamed him for all the heartache we faced growing up.

And then I grew up some more and learned a bit more – things aren’t always so simple. My father wasn’t noble, nor was he evil. He was flawed, along with everyone around him. The world is broken - things don’t work the way they should, people don’t behave the way they should. As much as we try to do the good that is in us, we fail. It didn’t take away or excuse him from all the wrong that he did in his life, but it did take away whatever anger I felt towards him. In fact, the more mistakes I made it my own life, the more reluctant I became to pass any judgment on him.

Many of his strengths I hope to replicate with my son. Many of his flaws, I see in myself - and I fear how it will affect my son. Am I up to the task? Will I be a good father? Will I make the same mistakes my father did? Or will I do worse? Will I have the wisdom to raise this child well?

 Can a man who doubts his own goodness raise a child to be a good man?