
All around me are reminders of the past.
The children, in particular, are ever present as a memory of a past I’d rather forget especially the bits I feel ashamed about.
I’ve worked to be a good father, to be there for them, to help them whenever I could but mostly I learned to listen without judgement recognising them as individuals and people in themselves.
The adult relationships I have now I treasure.
I know it’s not easy for some parents to stop being a parent and accept their children for the adults they have become. I learned that allowing them to make mistakes and learn from them was a good thing as much as it hurts to see it happening. But the rewards have been multiple. We can sit and hold a conversation, laugh together, cry together, feel free to exchange ideas which are more often than not contrary…
View original post 76 more words
