There Was But One Thing I Wanted To Be...

...when I was in my late twenties and early thirties. That would be a father.

This will be the last thing I have to say about killing our young. But I want to offer my perspective on parenthood.

My childhood wasn't perfect, by any means, but it was close enough for a kid in the 50's and early 60's. But my parents never had to worry about us much, as far as outside influences taking our asses out. We could ride our bikes for miles, walk for days, stay out all weekend in the woods and they never had to think twice about it. Of course we were out there raising hell, as youngin's are wont to do. Blowing up gas tanks, stringing tape across stop signs. YES, we were hellions, but with good hearts. If we blew up a mailbox, we would replace it.

I wanted my kids to have that experience, but the frigid ex decided that it wasn't in the cards, so I missed the one thing I wanted to do the most. But I survived. And so have they. I made a point of making sure that I was able to spend as much time as I could with them. And I tried to stay as parental as I could so they would have a sense that they have a responsibility to make sure that they can make their own way and do so on their own terms.

Does it piss me off that the ex cut it all short? You betcha. Did she do it for a good reason? Not in my opinion. She had it made. Guess that was my fault.

Point of all this? Not to bash the ex. That's long done with. I got an e-mail from the youngest today confirming they got the money I sent them. Some parents at VT weren't that lucky. It's about perspective, folks, perspective. When I got that e-mail it made my day.