Oxford, November 6th 2014
It's November. The days are short and cold and the sun refuses to come out from behind the grey cloud cover. You know there will be little excitement before Christmas. And yet, my heart rate and blood pressure are going through the roof.
I'm at the hospital where after a marathon labour (another one), my son Alexandru Stefan is about to be born. I'm going to be a father for the second time. Of course, I'm totally useless and besides updating people online or over the phone, I don't do much.
It's hard to describe my feelings. When my first son Theodor was born, the entire experience was like the first day of school and I had to learn to hold him, to listen to him, to understand his cries and moods and sometimes to quietly accept that that’s just the way babies are. But this time it’s somehow different. I already have that basic understanding of what to expect, so I’m quietly optimistic. What I don’t know however, is what to expect from myself. Will I be a fair father? Will I be able to see myself in Alex as much as I do in Theo? Will I be able to accept that he’s not me and not even Theo and that he never will be? He’s a totally new person who deserves to grow up to be himself. At the end of the day, the wrestle is with me, not with them.
As I watch him grow a little bit every day, I’m reminded of a quote I heard in a film recently: “Now we’re just here to be memories for our kids. Once you’re a parent, you’re the ghost of your children’s future”. If this is the inevitable destiny of every parent, I might as well make an effort to make this an unforgettable memory. Welcome to this world my dear Alexandru! I’ll do my best to show you just how amazing life is.
Your Father.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
ReplyDeleteRage, rage against the dying of the light.