Saturday, February 12, 2005

February Blues

I hate this time of the year. If it was up to me, I'd hibernate from Thanksgiving to St. Patrick's Day. There are anniversaries I don't want to dwell on this time of year... my father's death, my first stepfather's death, my ex-wedding anniversary... but I especially hate the one-two punch of Valentine's Day and my birthday. Just another flagrant reminder, complete with a deluge of media bombardment, that I get another year older alone.

I'm closing in on 40, and odds are now I'll never have children. While folks that know me would think that I would be overjoyed at this prospect, it also means that I am truly mortal... that when I am gone there will be nothing left behind. My family line ends with me, and in some ways that makes me feel like a failure. Maybe it's social programming or genetic drive that makes me feel that way, but it also hits me in a spiritual sense. I will be no one's ancestor. I'll be forgotten.

Okay, now I'm good and morose. Time for another beer.

1 Comments:

Blogger Sherri said...

While folks that know me would think that I would be overjoyed at this prospectI know you, and I don't think that. :) You've dropped a few hints in conversations that we've had, and the way you interact with Brenna. It would certainly be something outside of your comfort zone but I think that with a little work you would be a very good father. And 40 isn't too old either!

Remember, ancestors aren't just blood. You have your chosen family too. Someone has to teach Brenna how to speak Klingon! :)

11:43 AM  

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