An Odd Morning

Driving home from work and I was looking forward, as is usual for me, to a few pints in the Grotto with the next day being my first off in a week. I had missed many dinners with the late nights and overtime but since we don't have kids, it didn't really impact us that much. Kat and I spend a few hours together and then she heads to bed while I stay up a little later for some quality time alone with a beer to settle my mind. I started thinking about how different our life would be with kids, how the hell people afford them and what I would be doing if we did have them. I pretty sure I'd be different too and chances are I would but I also started to wonder about what I want to do with the back half of my life.
  Life without kids isn't really something people like to talk about. Some give their time to charitable and community organisations. Others concentrate on their extended families, becoming integral to nieces and nephews and involved in their lives to contribute something. I thought about some of these things, but my work schedule sees me home long after most everything that would like my help or on the weekends when I almost never am off. It crossed my mind to go back to coaching but in reality, with my schedule I would miss almost every game and practice, rendering me at best an ineffective assistant who would be missing 80 percent of the time.
  So where does that leave me? I ponder what I am doing, working so hard and despite the financial rewards, do I need to pursue money for the sake of money? When you have children, your focus obviously shifts to making sure they have a better life than you did. You strive to give them the best you can and  sacrifice to ensure that happens. I don't have to do that, the only people I have to worry about is Kathryn and myself if you get right down to it. I love my extended and immediate family but through the combination of lifestyle, work and just plain neglect, I have become a peripheral member at best. I wish them only the best things, but I am not involved enough to be considered anything but a member in name only it feels sometime. Perhaps as we get older, things will change with a little more effort on both sides.
  I used to be involved in all sorts of family events, hosting and planning them because I wanted to ensure a strong bond and a history of family traditions for my future children. Not having them means that any tradition becomes moot after I die, perhaps the memory of what I did carried for a generation but then I become a picture in an album that eventually finds its way to that dusty attic. A little dark but not untrue. I can tell stories of long ago relatives, but do the children of my cousins and brothers know them? How long before they are left to the past and a world that goes on regardless? Its a weird way to look at life I will agree, but it's where I am right now.  The best thing about writing down my thoughts is to help me see what is bothering me and when I am finished, they tend to recede to the past.
 With holiday season approaching, I become more introspective about what they mean and how I want to deal with them. Thanksgiving has long been avoided, along with easter, because they never felt like fun. Having to choose which side to go to makes it a minefield and I am not even going to get into Christmas, that mess isn't made better by hosting. I see nothing of value in forced bonhomie with anyone and since we really don't celebrate any of them with the verve of those around us, I am always left with nothing to say when we get together. We don't exchange gifts or have anything near a traditional holiday. It isn't necessary to perpetuate the myths of the santa or the rush of presents and family time when it is just two people, we buy the stuff we need and occasionally what we want when we can afford it. Just because it's December doesn't mean we suddenly have more money for things we don't need. So not being part of that and stepping out of the larger family gift giving takes us further afield. It's not the season of my youth obviously and while I do enjoy the trappings of the season, the specials on TV, the beer and the food, I cannot get excited about something I no longer participate in. I don't hate Christmas or anything like that, it's just different for me now and I don't know if I like that or not.
 It's not a "pity party" as one wonderful member of my family said of my work last week, I just write what I am thinking to help me understand it. None of this is ever intended to ask for sympathy, it is and has always been a way for me to convey my feelings, work out the problems I am having and maybe help someone who is suffering in silence to realise that they are not alone. I don't want anyone to think I hate my life or how it has turned out. I write because it works for me, no one has to read it if it bothers them, I would never want that. My social life has shrunk but thanks to my online friends I can always find someone to talk to and that has added value to my life that I can't measure. Do I want to go out more? Sure I do and I hope we will as my work life returns to a more normal pace.
  It is easy to become inward looking when you don't have to look outward and you see the march of time ending with your own demise. I get a little maudlin when I realise all this comes to an end when I go and no one carries on the lessons I would teach. But it isn't all doom and gloom, I intend to squeeze every moment of enjoyment I can out of whatever time I have left. I will do what I want to and make decisions about my life that enhance it wherever I can. It's been a weird way to arrive at this conclusion, but that is what this process has always been for me. Write and understand my own mind, it's taken me far and I don't want to stop now. The depression and low feelings are a thing of the past and it is though this medium that I have found peace with who I am. I'll be as surprised as you where this all ends up,

Never a Dad 2.0

  I still wonder what my life would be like if we had been able to have kids. The vision of being a father is fading fast in the rear view mirror of my life and the empty canvas of the unplanned back half is unknown. I often find my connections to other people can be difficult because we don't have children. The shared experience of having a family as a parent is lost on me in absolute terms; I understand it but I don't really "get" it. That undying love that a parent feels isn't something I can pull from my life and to be honest, I find myself leaning inward and becoming more withdrawn sometimes as we pass further from this time in our lives. It's not depression anymore, more a numbness on an old wound that never healed properly.
 We still get the adoption question and while I know people are well meaning, the process is something we looked into and for our own reasons feel like it isn't for us. Our lives are careening toward a future we couldn't envision and our options have been exhausted. It can be frustrating when you know the barriers to your reproductive health are both medical and financial and there is nothing you can do about either. We contemplated IVF with the announcement of Ontario's funding increase but it became apparent that even with that help it was beyond our means to afford, emotionally or otherwise. To know you came up short and are leaving an important part of the human experience in the dust is unsettling some days, despite an overall happiness with our lives.
    The great unknown of what could have been is what will always linger in the back of my mind. Having been raised by parents who did everything they could to give us a good life, I envisioned being a very involved Dad. Coaching sports, helping with school projects, playing made up games, healing hurts and all the other million things a parent does. Late nights caring for a sick kid aren't high on my list, but I would have done it because I would have loved my child more than anything in the world. That kind of love transcends anything I have experienced and knowing that I will miss out on that is probably what kills me the most. I wanted to feel that kind of joy when I looked down at my sleeping child, heard a first word, watched a first step or even shared their first beer.
   Long term, life will go on, joy will be present in other forms but I know that I will never get to hold my child in my arms. That one is tough to take, I have had loss and disappointment in my life but I never saw being childless as a possible outcome. It's not that there is no value without kids, many of our friends and family have gone through this and live rich and fulfilling lives. I love what I have built with Kathryn and have no wish to be anywhere but here. I have a good job and am almost at the point where the mistakes of the past, financially anyway, are behind me and repaired. I get to drink amazing beers all the time and am constantly meeting new people who quickly become friends. But there are going to be quiet moments when I will be caught off guard and feel that longing to be more than I am. Dad is one title I shall never acquire and that will always be the saddest thing I can imagine.


Polk

What Now?

You start off with the same milestones as everyone. People wait for you to roll over, sit up, walk and run. Then you go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, raise them, retire, be a grandparent and the cycle starts again.


What happens when you hit the one of these and stop?


I know that I am never going to retire, we are not having kids and I am increasingly unsure of what comes next.
My life has always had the next goal, the next achievement, the next chapter. Now I am a little lost because I sometimes wonder what I am working so hard for. Living to work is not what anyone wants to do, but when you have children, you do what is necessary to provide them with the best you can. When you are staring 30 more years in the eye and realising that at best you'll squeeze out 4 weeks vacation a year, you wonder why bother. What is the purpose of life if all it has become is the drudgery of day to day, month to month, year to year. Small things to look forward to are good, but when you are faced with decades more of 50 hour weeks and living on the fringes of what society has deemed normal, it weighs on you. Happiness is fleeting and we hold on dearly to anything that brings a moments respite from the exceedingly ordinary lives we lead.
I hear about folks without kids who go on grand adventures, leave it all behind and pursue a life that they choose. Sounds good, but it is not easy to leave behind the trappings of the regular life. What would I do for work? Where would we live? What about our extended, albeit slightly estranged. families? Will it actually be better? These things run through my mind as I think about just saying no to all I thought I wanted until very recently.
At 43, is it too late to start again?
I wish I had an answer. It has been haunting me for some time now as we move further away from having kids, I want to figure out who I am and where I want to be. I am certain that I was not meant to be 70 and struggling to live, working a full time job and just getting by every day. So many people live those desperate lives of work, eat, sleep, repeat and I don't want to become a drone who only stops working when I stop breathing. Following my passion is all well and good in theory, but a mortgage isn't paid in dreams and my partner in life cannot carry the load while I pursue something that may never become anything of value. Real life means the bills come in, you pay them and whatever is left over is what you can try to live on. We do better than most, we have more than enough food, clothes on our backs, a little fun now and then and a roof over our heads. This should be enough but I can't help but thinking there should be more. We shouldn't be locked down to some conformity that isn't real to us. We are not of the world that we expected and maybe it is time to explore the world we do not know.
Dreams stay just that unless you act on them, but what price is paid for pursuing them. I don't know that I will ever be brave enough to actually give voice to what I want. The internal struggle between what I thought was going to happen and what has happened is very real and I just want to find my place in the world. If I don't, will I lay there, 20 years from now, silently judging and hating myself because I was to cowardly to demand happiness. I know that I wish 20 year old me would have thought a little more about where we would end up because that guy was a seriously shortsighted individual. The pursuit of immediate gratification is my biggest regret and while I can do nothing about the past, I can do something about the future. I don't know where I will be a year from now, but as long as it is moving towards a goal I have set and made real, then I will at least have that.
 Life really is too short and when you start down the back forty of your existence, it is probably time to look at yourself and ask one thing:
"Are you happy?"
If the answer is no...well, maybe it's time you do something about it, because no one else is coming to bail you out or tell you what to do with your own life. This is when you make a choice and whatever that is, wherever that takes you, it is 100 % on you. No excuses, no regrets, no looking back. I know my time is coming and when I reach that fork in the road, I hope I choose wisely.