A Fathers Love

With Fathers day soon approaching my heart strings are being plucked. I always thought that at some stage in my lifes journey I would have children; I have always wanted them and kinda thought that I would make a good father. I have always had a good relationship with my friends kids and my god daughter, I think the trick is that I don’t treat them as children, just small people, like minded people who like nothing more than sitting on the carpet playing games, exploring woods or playing in the local park. I love nothing more than pushing all my worldly concerns to one side for a few hours or better still a day or two and playing. When I go to see my God daughter and her sister that is exactly what I do, within minutes of arriving I am being dragged into the lounge and am presented with an array of games pre-chosen for when Uncle Identity comes to visit. With scarcely enough time to exchange greetings with my adult friends and parents to the two most beautiful girls in the world I am on the carpet and in a make believe world of fantasy and fiction played out by various dolls and figurines, we are putting jigsaw puzzles together, playing guessing games, board games, drawing or reading stories together which I think is probably the thing I love most of all, a weekend just gone I was sat on the sofa with one of the girls either side of me, my arms around them holding the book in front of us, (so that we could all see the pictures of course) and we all read together, taking it in turns to read stories to each other.
I had the opportunity not so long ago to take the two girls to one of these adventure playground things. You know the type of place, huge climbing frames covered in brightly coloured padding and foam, climbing nets, ropes and pits full of a collection of plastic balls with more colours than a rainbow. On arrival all our shoes were discarded and we let loose, all three of us charging around without a care in the world, albeit I was a bit slower and redder in the face, before too long I was like The Pied Piper of Hamelin and I had a multitude of children playing with us whilst their parents either watched from the sidelines or relaxed in the café.
I will never forget the time I had spent the day playing and I was getting ready to leave and the youngest girl came up to me as I put on my leather motorbike trousers, she tugged on my trousers, looked up at me and said “Don’t go” at which point my heart just melted, she then proceeded to wrap herself around my leg and there she stayed as I walked about gathering my things trying desperately not to burst into uncontrollable tears.
I love it, more than I am able to express in words alone.

Can anyone truly know the meaning of life without first helping to create it?

According to scientists they believe that men as well as women have a biological clock, and why wouldn’t they? Yes it is the woman that carries the baby for nine months and quite possibly has a connection that maybe man might not be fully appreciative off, but, and this is something that should be remembered by some people, it does take two. A child is a gift to both the mother and the father, not a possession to be fought over. According to the scientists who conducted the study a mans biological clock starts ticking in his mid thirties, which means if mine isn’t already ticking it’s due to start any time now. I don’t like to think that it will never happen for me, I still hold on to some hope that at some point I will be building tree houses in the garden, kicking a ball about or playing games with my own children. I long to hold my son or daughter in my arms seconds after they have been born, to know that feeling, to experience the mass of emotions that must well up at such a time. Although I am fairly certain that at such a time I would be a mess on the floor unable to cope with the outpouring of emotion and feelings. I love my god daughter and her sister with all that is within me, but and don’t let this take anything away from the way that I feel for them I don’t think the love that I have for them would compare to that which I would hold for my own children. I just hope one day I will experience such love and be able to express it. I want to see my child grow and blossom into an adult, I want to be there every step of the way, trying desperately to guide them along their own paths, or at the very least setting them on their own way, on the right path, I want to be there when it is there turn to become parents, there turn to experience the love that I would have felt and to know a whole new love for my grandchildren.

To see myself in my childrens eyes, to witness the miracle of birth, to know that feeling of being needed, an unquestionable love, an everlasting love.

Is my biological clock ticking?
It feels like Big Ben is ringing in the hours…