Serge and I have never seriously considered having a child. Oh the topic comes up every now and then, usually after witnessing some incredible darling thing a child has done, where the conversation goes something like this:
Aww, that's so cute, makes me wish we had a kid. (This could be either of us talking)
Yeah, but that's now, lets not forget diapers, illness, injuries, money, teenage period, and that we'd be 60 by the time the kid moves out.
Oh right what was I thinking.
And other times, we'll witness some heinous behavior and cluck about how we've maintained the right decision.
God, can you believe that kid?
I know, we'd surely end up with one like that.
Thank God we didn't waver from our platform.
Oh sure it goes deeper than this sometimes, that instinctual nurturing thing inside us that we rehearse on Sara. In fact Sara is really our child, as we pay close attention to her moods and habits, her fears and most incessantly her bowel movements. (When we lived in the loft, we collected three year's worth of turds in little plastic bags as we walked her in the park three times a day.) She is eleven now and her age is showing around her muzzle, showing in the diminished spring in her step, showing in the fouler odors escaping her, and showing in that her earlier fears have grown into paranoid obsession. At every passerby on the sidewalk outside she growls. She used to just bark at the doorbell, but now any knocking or doorbell on the TV sends her into a tizzy.
Playing uncle to friends' kids and also teaching kids while raising a dog pretty much gives me all the gifts of parenthood with much less of the horrors. Oh sure I've come across a pile of vomit on the carpet more than a few times, and I've had to admonish kids and be mortified by their cruelty, but I've been spared the 24/7 adrenaline rush that lasts 18 years with your own child.
The thing that worries me though is this: what kind of grief will I experience when Sara dies? Just the mere thought of it crushes me, and so I'm worried about what will erupt within me when it really happens. At least with real children of your own, it is quite possible that you will die before your offspring does.
3 comments:
There is nothing I can imagine making my life more meaningful than having children. Not that it isn't meaningful now.
And I hear you about Sara. I love Charlie more than anything.
I wouldn't trade the 18 years and all the horrific, agonizing moments (of which I can't remember any now) for all the Willie and Princesses in the world. There is no way to describe how a child enriches your life. They teach you patience, tolerence, love, laughter, compassion and responsibility - the responsibility for another human life. Best of all, when they are grown, they keep you young refusing to let you grow old.
Merci beaucoup mon fils!
I've been through it three times (Dog Death) and if you think it gets easier you are wrong.I consider myself lucky, all my dogs lived long happy lives, so long I had to put them to sleep.I read it's the ultimate thing you can do for the final peace and happiness of your animal companion.If you are a true friend to dogs you will start over and get another one, you owe it to the species we domesticated and now (not us!) abandon so casually.
gotta go cry now!!
give Sara a kiss for me!
love,
Donna (no babies, no puppies)
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