My own childhood was rotten. I had two parents who had neither the patience nor the inclination to do right by myself, my brothers or my sister. I had 18 years of being belted, yelled at and belittled until I got the hell out of the family. The abuse continued for another few years after I left home, although only in increments, as I kept touch seldomly until my mother died in 1997. My father is still alive, although he is a sad lonely and sick old man, estranged from his children.
I always swore that I would be an attentive and loving parent, if ever I had the honour of being a parent. But, I continually put that fantasy at bay, afraid of repeating the mistakes of my parents.
My only child entered this world not long after I celebrated my 43 third birthday in 2007. What a miracle, a blessing! How could I ever imagine loving a single individual more?
From the moment I was privaledge enough to see him enter this world, to this present day. It has been a wonderful journey of laughter, games, exploration and child-like silliness. He grows and develops, physically, emotionally, intillectually and personality-wise at an astounding rate. Every moment is the best moment of my life, and I hope his.
I don`t have rose colored glasses. I know there will be times as he grows when he will dissapoint me, and like-wise I will do the same to him. I know we will clash over silly nonsense, and that he will rebel. Thats all normal.
No matter what the future holds, I know in my heart that my son will enter adulthood knowing he has two parents that have afforded him every opportunity to feel good about himself, to feel unconditionally loved and to chase after the life he desires.
My son is the highlight of my life. I can-not thank him enough for entering my life.