My neighbors had a second baby over the Thanksgiving Weekend and I couldn’t be happier for them. I’ve watched them raise their first kid from his baby days to today – now nearly 5 years later. They are loving, doting parents. They are tightly connected with both of their families – frequently spending time with siblings, parents, aunts, uncles and extended family members from all over the country.
And now, they have added another child to love and care for. What a wonderful thing.
For them.
As happy as I am for them, I am even happier for myself that I never had children. I got to experience being a stepfather for many years, so I had some of the wonderful experiences and milestones of raising kids. I never cared for a baby because they were older when we met. I became an empty nester at 30. And I was relieved of some of the responsibilities of fatherhood because their father was always heavily involved in their lives – even moreso as they grew older.
Today, my stepdaughter’s ashes are buried in my yard next to her mother’s ashes. My stepson made the choice to cutoff all contact with me – we haven’t spoken in nearly 5 years since his mother died.
So I no longer carry the responsibility of being a parent, or a pseudo-parent/stepfather.
It took me a while to accept that. Now I embrace it.
When I daydreamed about my childhood fantasies of the perfect family with 2-3 kids, a house in the suburbs, 2 golden retrievers, a Mercedes and a beautiful wife, I never realized that having kids was a life sentence.
After all, my father disappeared form my life when I was 5. My mother was present in my life until I moved out at 21, but she invested her time and attention on her work, her husband/boyfriend, her friends and herself. Growing up, we were more like roommates than parent and child.
I never thought about my imaginary family’s perfect kids moving back in after college, dealing with addictions or needing their lives to be subsidized for decades (or perhaps forever) because they couldn’t maintain meaningful employment. Or even worse, what if they were unfit parents themselves and dumped their children off on me to care for?
Today I have friends my age raising kids (or step kids) young enough to be their grand children and I think “where do they get the energy”?
I know of grandparents whose adult children move back home with their own kids who are dealing with drug addiction, financial disasters and ongoing legal issues.
Even some of the best adjusted kids still often rely on mom and dad to support them after they graduate from college.
No thanks.
I served my time.
I’m glad it wasn’t a life sentence.