So here we are in the middle of July or somewhere roundabout, and in two months I will have been married for an entire year, and I haven't blogged in five months (which is a world record for me) and life has continued in its own slow way...
...and my wife is pregnant, and I'm going to be a father.
And there is so much to say, so very much to say.
And blogs just don't cut it anymore when it comes to my feelings.
And yet, I feel that this is something worth blogging about.
And I'm going to try and document as much as I can before the inevitable crunch of hours and weeks and months and years spent raising a child descends like cloud seeds upon what is left of my free time.
And I think that one day I'll blog regularly again but with a different goal in mind, that goal being a true need for communication born out of genuine desire to be expressive and not just some hollow trumpeting used to back up my claims to literacy and all.
And when my child can read, they might see these pages, and laugh, and cry, and wonder why.
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My wife is entering into her second trimester. She is starting to show. Her womb is transforming and altering itself, tailoring itself to accommodate the impending arrival.
She has slight aches and minor pains. Her nausea is waning. She forgets things and her moods swing like a suspension bridge in a stormy wind.
I have never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of her sitting upright in bed, her mousy librarian's glasses perched upon her pointy dainty nose, her eyes aglass* with expectancy...
(*= A combination of "aglaze" and "glassy")
I rub her paunch every chance I get.
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Now that my own father and I have buried the hatchet, I find that the wardrobe of fatherhood feels good and slinky when I slip its tender robes upon my rough, flabby skin.
We never argue anymore. I harbor no hatred towards him. We don't even get into religious debates the way we used to, and it is a pleasure to hear from him when he calls me up to talk.
I will never forget his sins, what he did. I cannot, I will not.
But I never thought I'd ever forgive him either, and yet that is exactly what I have done.
I can keep vigil, as a reminder to myself and to my child, a way of making sure that history does not repeat itself, that my child does not become first a victim and then the victimizer of a similar offense to what befell my father when he was only a young boy.
I can keep a diligent eye. In that respect, I won't forget.
But I forgave him finally, and that lifted the heaviest burden from my shoulders at a point when I could no longer carry it.
I don't care if you believe in God or not. The fact is, forgiveness is good for the soul.
Yes, it is.
Make sure you forgive someone before you have kids of your own.
