It's tough knowing what you have done wrong, even if you don't quite know why you did. And its tough not being able to set matters right again. But I am determined to change those parts of me that are immature and grow into a good man, if I can.
I have been watching other fathers closely, those that are engaged with their world, and can see the joy of that engagement. It's something that is palpable.
After Tom's swimming class today, during which I had to physically manoeuvre his reluctant frame into the water, we went to Gloria Park. There were half a dozen families, children and their mothers, furiously involved in play of all sorts. Tom soon joined up with a group of tree climbers and he got to quite a height, and down again. Later the same group swelled into a bamboo wielding tribe, who made huts from fronds of bamboo and swished their sticks like light sabres. I enjoyed every minute of it, sad as I was.
It's never too late, you know.
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