Sunday, December 28, 2008

Kids today...and my life

TOPSY-TURVY. I always associate this word with Enid Blyton’s book series: The Magic Faraway Tree. The Land of Topsy-Turvy was one of the many places featured in the delightful adventures in the woods.

Crash, boom…and there I was on Christmas eve sitting in front of a 7-year old kid who was narrating the goriest story of a helicopter crash caused by some ….bombers, G-men parachuting, and guns going crazy. I gaped at the little one as he fashioned a mangled helicopter out of a kiddies-party napkin, astounded at the child’s imagination. Hold It – it isn’t his imagination, now, is it? This is what tots are exposed to these days.

What happened to the wonderful tales spun from Enid Blyton, Hans Christian Andersen or Brothers Grimm? To think that at one time Enid Blyton was controversial for offending ‘modern sensibilities’ as she told stories of elves, goblins, pixies and furthermore on antics of school-children at boarding schools!

Phew – I look back at myself ten years ago – there I was longing to form a wholesome family. I would have been a good mother, I’m sure. I would have given my kids a good life, nourished and cherished them. They would have grown up and made lives of their own. I would have been a good parent, I would have. I have no regrets on that score anymore. What didn’t happen saved me from staying in a relationship, miserable and weak, spiritless and mean.

Happy to be childless today....I smile (biological clock ticking indeed). My relationship is what keeps me going....would I have adopted if I hadn't found my partner? Tough one - not sure I would have. Idealistically, I would think, Yes. On second thought...I don't have the time or energy to devote, to do justice to a young life. What knowledge would I impart being alone - bitter and cynical (I would have turned out that way.) We need love in our lives to keep us breathing.

What I am today is what was meant to be. In a weird twisted way, the universe drops drama into our lives and we just have to lap it up and keep going. They seem like teasers from heaven/hell. Are they the same place, just viewed with different eyes?

Lately this whole living-out-of-a-suitcase has brought the giggles on. I feel like a teenager once again. I know the day will come when the pressure will mount. I’m guessing Feb 09. Until then, let’s just enjoy the foot-play, the interim where we’re just in a limbo. When do we know that the time is right? And for what – verbal settlement or physical movement or both?

I think; I don’t worry. I wonder but don’t stress. I long for the day of knowing.

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