“‘Dad. Why did you bring me into this world?’
One day, I will be asked this question. And, I will not know how to answer it. I simply do not have an answer for it. He will ask me one day, probably sooner than I would like, ‘Dad, you knew the world was falling apart. You knew the destruction was too much to fix. You knew there was no hope anymore, that every generation here on in are condemned. You knew. Why did you bring me here?’
I know he is capable of changing it, but he knows that this is not his burden to bear. When he asks, he will know I forced it upon him by bringing him into existence. I helped, collectively, to create this pain, destruction and disaster then selfishly brought him to life to saddle him with this impossible fate.
How do I tell my son that I was selfish?
How do I tell him that my want to experience fatherhood was greater than the responsibility I should have had. He will ask me this because he knows I am intelligent. Because he knows that I am a leader among my community, and that I am someone he and my little town look to for truth, for direction. He will ask me this because he trusts me, even though nothing in that question elicits such; He trusts me even though I suspect he understands that, just by merely bringing him to life, just by conceiving him, I have severed the bond of security he could have ever had for me. With me. Read the rest of this entry »