Living with Luke 41
Following on from the last couple of blogs about Tiddles and his love or seeming lack of…this was the conversation that TCMH and I had a few days ago…be warned, it contains lyrics of an 80’s nature…
“I was talking to Michelle yesterday about Amy.” Said TCMH. “She asked Amy if she knew what love is…”
“Did she want her to show it?” Said I.
“No,” replied TCMH, “Amy said she didn’t know what love is…”
“Perhaps she knows she can show it…?”
TCMH paused and had the type of look on her face that said, We’re married…why, exactly?
“I’m just going to keep on saying it until I get a laugh…”I shrugged.
“You’ll be waiting a long time…” she murmured. The withering put down. She may not come up with relentless jokes, but TCMH does have a nice line in devestating humour. I asked her once what it was like being married to a comedy genius.
“I dunno,” she replied, “I’ll ask Billy Connolly’s wife…”
This blog has been difficult to write this week, due to my general mood which has been low. I’ve been fed-up, sad, pissed off and generally feeling a bit sorry for myself. I’ve not been myself, but then again, maybe this is what I am really like and the ‘other’ me is the fake?
However, although I often think that Tiddles doesn’t really have any thoughts for anybody else except himself, he seems to sense that something is up with ‘Goodbye Daddy’. I’ve had some unprompted cuddles and…well, that’s it really, unprompted cuddles. I’ve done my level best not to be sad or annoyed in his presence, after all, nothing that’s happening to me right now is his fault-or anybody else in the house for that matter-so I’ve been happy and jolly with him, or at least as much as he will allow me to be. He still shouts at me, like he did today. He still hides from me, like he did today. But just occasionally he slips across briefly from Narnia and makes me feel like his dad again.
And in the greater scheme of things, that is really all that I am after.
It’s a sad fact that men in general are thought of as a bit of a joke these days. We’re vilified in the media and told as a gender to ‘man up’, to stop being pathetic, weak, less manly, whatever that means. A cold is brushed off as ‘Man-Flu’, the inference being that men can never be as sick as women and that we as fathers, can never have the same emotional attachment to our children that mothers do. So what do we do? We plough on, burying our feelings, our fears, not wanting the ridicule of society pointing it’s collective finger at us and telling us to ‘man up!’ and we try to become the very thing that everybody is telling us we should be, only to be told that we are NOW being ‘a bloke’, a lout, thuggish, unfeeling and worse, uncaring. We’re fighting a battle that was lost years ago. And we try desperately to express ourselves and vent our frustrations in other ways. Like this blog…
I realised today that has been about a year since I started writing ‘Living with Luke’. It was a way of putting down on paper exactly what I had been burying for the last 12/13 years, my feelings, my fears. Has writing them changed my relationship with Tiddles for the better? No. If anything it has only served to highlight just how far he has drifted away from me and continues to do so.
I wrote in my first blog how it was like somebody had broken in during the night and replaced Luke with Tiddles, an almost exact replica of my son and how I have silently grieved for the boy that might’ve been. This past year has shown me that I miss him more and more everyday. I’m not the man I was. I’ll always be his father, but I may never really be his dad. That’s my penance for whatever hurt I have caused the universe. But I’ll man-up and just do the best I can for my beautiful boy and try not to show any weakness to him, no matter how much it hurts to have him reject me.
I heard a song the other day that I loved but hadn’t heard for years. I fell in love with the video and the song become a big favourite of TCMH and I. Upon hearing the song again, it’s another song that couldve been written about Tiddles, as it contains the lyrics,
If this world is wearing thin,
And you’re thinking of escape,
I’ll go anywhere with you,
Just wrap me up in chains.
But if you try to go alone,
Don’t think I’ll understand.
Stay with me.
Heartbreaking stuff, especially more so later when Siobhan Fahey sings,
You better hope and pray,
That you make it safe,
Back to your own world.
You better hope and pray,
That you wake one day,
Back in your own world…