Archive
07/16/10
"Dad"
At this phase of this stage, at this late age, So many of my generation Are immersed, invested, engaged in grandparenting,
Getting to spoil their kids' kids Without having to accommodate the complexities Requisite to full-time responsibilities and obligations
Or assume the custodial and ethical duties Parents have no choice but to inculcate, If they hope to be successful
In giving their issue half a fighting chance At making sense out of the morass Into which, sooner or too late, they'll matriculate.
In my case, the occupational hazards of fatherhood Evaded, eluded, sidestepped my destiny, Spared me parenting's detestable fate.
Admittedly, unashamedly, I must say I hated the idea of rearing my three boys, Did my damnedest to stay away,
Let my wife tend to all the day-to-day details, While I brought home the bacon, Kept the roof over our heads, put bread on the table.
Maybe I was old-fashioned or just plain selfish. Who knows? Who gives two-thirds of a hoot? An impossible-to-satisfy wife and divorce erased all that. Now, it's been forty years, And I've yet to hear word one from my three sons. Wouldn't you think I deserve a little credit,
A little "How're you doin'?", a little phone call, Every now and every then or so, Just to let me know they know I'm alive, I exist,
A little get to meet my grandbabies, grandadolescents, Grandadults about to have their own kids, My great-grandwhoevers, so-and-sos, kith and kin?
OK. So the truth's out of the bag. I'm kind of devastated to be so neglected, so free. It gets lonely when you have no family
Or, worse, have a family that doesn't know you, at all, Rattling in the halls, like shadows, Calling you by a name you never recognized — "Dad."
07/16/10
|
|||
|
|||
