The father in me on Father's Day

I could have been a father, I’m not,
For that, I have no regrets,
Not that I can do anything about it now,
Good old chemotherapy coursing through my veins,
Carried the sentence I probably knew it would,
You cannot by yourself create new life,
It was not something to cry about,
For it is my story to tell.

I do have a father, he’s a man of 80,
For that, I am utterly grateful,
Not that we do not have many disagreements,
Good old desires that a son turns out differently,
Carried through life objecting to your control,
You wonder if he indeed is your son,
It is something in which you agonise,
For it is your story to tell.

I know I am like my father, I do,
For that, I’m ambivalent,
Not that we know enough about each other,
Good his integrity and community spirit shine through,
Carried by his sense of great responsibility,
You ponder on if things could be better,
It dwells on the matter of father and son,
For it is our story to tell.

I could be a grandfather, for my age,
For that, there are no answers,
Not that it matters than much even to me,
Good that situation did not complicate another life,
Carried away from the required sense of tradition,
You think of the message of Father’s Day,
It is one of love and appreciation,
For it is a story to tell.

I wish I had a child, I don’t,
For that, it is not an issue,
Not that the child would have suffered neglect,
Good that I would have eyes, ears, and heart to care,
Carried on the wings of great possibility,
You know it would have amazing relationships,
It calls for a different fatherhood,
For a new story to tell.

Blog - Father's Day on my mind to be continued, at some time.

Father's Day on my mind

Some reflections on fatherhood

On this Father’s Day, it has been difficult to get hold of my dad on the phone. My reflection on it is deep and strange, for within my heart I have much love and much hurt, both have shaped many elements of my outlook to life, to relationships and to the world.

In many ways I see some traits of my parents in the things I do, and in others, we can be so different because of the generational differences and the radical influences of time, manner, and place.

A journey to travel

I am walking towards a better reconciliation and understanding, I appreciate that when my dad learnt clearly of my sexuality, even in his deepest misgivings and regret, he did not reject me, for that I am very grateful. Thinking of this, I wrote a poem of my intimate views of fatherhood from many perspectives, if I tried hard enough, all these paragraphs would be in the poem. Maybe, it is a task for another time.

The job of fathering is never fully done, so, the work on this is one that is in progress. After I left my home for boarding school at the age of 10, everything after that was one of recognition rather than disposition, we have drifted far apart and come close many times, it never mattered to me anymore whether I made anyone proud, I lived my life and tried to do my duty.

I cherish my aged dad; he is a fine gentleman of a certain persuasion. If I had nothing more to say, I still can wish him a happy Father’s Day.