Here's where I want to spend my time, how about you?
- sleeping (to get over this cold)
- reading (likely for escape, but I'd like to think for enrichment, too)
- writing (I miss it so!)
- talking w/wife (unless kids are asleep, this is nigh-impossible)
- purging guilt (for the little things, like not flossing, not walking the dog, etc)
...but I've lately had such a tremendous heart-swell of something like...pre-grief(?) that it's almost been unbearable. (I've always had a tendency to worry about every potential alternative outcome of something, long in advance--even though I know worry is a worthless emotion, knowing I cannot affect the future so don't sweat it, knowing...but lately, oddly, I've been grieving-in-advance.)
This would make little sense to anyone who is not a parent. Four years ago, I would have stopped reading this about right here.
I grieve (and literally grieve) my sons growing up. I fuss and fester and sweat and sigh...for I know that they are going to outgrow me. The unconditional love I currently bask in is temporal, and knowing that, I miss it already. Someday, the kids won't think dad's so cool. They won't go through separation anxiety when I go to work (or even to the next room in the case of the 6 month old). They will some day rather play with friends, hang out with girls, jack into their iPods and computers and whatever other electronic preoccupations the world has conjured.
Currently, nothing makes my eldest more happy than a wrestling match or a good book. He will spend hours with me just on a walk, constantly talking, telling stories, etc. Honestly folks, I've never known anything remotely like the love of a child. It is addictive. It is likely selfish of me to be so moved by it, but I am! Maybe the wife and I will simply have to keep making more kids, so I can get my fix.
The pre-grief took an even darker turn, one that makes my soul twist and moan: death. I lost my best friend, my first-cousin Brenda, when I was 11. I've lost many relatives since, most recently my father...but to lose a child! How does one endure? One of my best buddies fathered a child who was burdened with an illness denying him any muscle control--poor baby couldn't even swallow or breathe. This friend of mine (and his wife) provided 24 hour in-home care for the infant to his death at the age of four. My in-laws had a son who lived to be 13, struggling with leukemia for the last several years of his life. That type of loss would lead me to gnash my teeth and curse the gods and...well, I hate to imagine what else.
The other night my kid fell off his bed, even with these rail-bumpers up. I heard the thump, I bolted from bed, and found him on the floor holding his head. What if his neck had broken? What if he'd landed on some sharp toy and punctured his heart or something?! These moments of absolute fright are likely to increase, as he becomes more adventurous. I know that. When he's a speck in the sky descending from a perfectly good plane, skydiving, what will I do? Run to catch him when he lands? When he's [insert long list of stupid things I've done] and I'm not even there--how will I cope?
Parenthood is the absolute. Don't get me wrong. I love my family with white-hot, mad-cow loyalty...but I really don't think I knew what I was getting into. The responsibility is one thing. The whole-hearted vulnerability is something else. Yes, it's worth the trade off, for those moments when I feel I've made their lives better, or we've shared a laugh...but the pain--eeesh! And the pre-pain/grieving--I simply have GOT to get over that!
