I will share the many thoughts that invade my introspective soul. |
My stomach hurts, so I can at least relate in some respect to the idea of having birth pangs. I find myself reflecting on the whole parent perception. As a child I had my own isolation. I talked to family when I wanted to. I had an excuse. There were pay phones and I had little or no money in those days. Mom and Dad worried. At least I knew when I needed them, especially when I was hungry, needed money, company, or help with a burgeoning load of laundry. Other than that I was happy to have freedom to be myself. I was lousy at keeping in touch. I admit that and my sons were to a large extent just like me. "Hey guys, at least let me know if you are dead or alive". This often took place after a month or two and consulting with my ex about what the heck was going on. My daughter spoiled me rotten. It seemed like whenever I called she was there or at least not far away. There was hardly a week when I was not in contact. I was obviously needy. Now for some reason she disappeared. I feel like I am bad or am at least being attacked (she is mad at me for something). What other reason is there for my new found loss of attention. My stomach hurts. I recall the divorce and how it seemed to rip me from my little girl. She grew up too fast and now I am left wondering where the time went. Now what? Maybe birth can take another form. Is it possible dads can be born again? |