Last week, my daughter Esther cleared up everything in her room (well almost), packed it into her car, and left home to start her new life as a working and soon-to-be-married woman in Nottingham.
This week, while I am engaging with child protection specialists from around the world at the ISPCAN congress in Calgary, my son Joe, has cleared up his room and set off for his new life as a working man in Harpenden.
My two children – those little babies whom I held so close in tender moments of fatherly love; or threw into the air, screaming with delight; those lively, growing individuals with whom I shared fun family games, and exciting holidays; those independent, strong personalities who caused such anguish with their stroppy moods and sullen teenage grunts.
As I helped Esther carry boxes down to her car, and again this morning as I sent an email to Joe, I found myself once more in a jumble of emotions: fatherly pride at the amazing young people they have grown to be; tears of nostalgia, joy and heartache as I think back on their wonderful childhoods and all we shared as a family; sadness that Helen isn’t here to share it with me and to encourage them on their way; strong hopes for their futures and all those hold: all the love, the joy and the pain of being a parent.
And I shall return to a different home and a new phase of our family life – filled with a sense of blessing at the privilege I have been given to be a father.
Stay strong poppa bear … It gets a little easier and one day , before you know it, those grandbabies will appear to help heal a shattered heart! Esther looks so much like Helen I had to do a double take for a moment. God Bless
Deborah