Friday, July 22, 2016

Now that we've had kids for four months (btw, we have a foster placement of two boys, 3 and 1.5 y/o), I feel more confident and less wishy-washy about not wanting to have kids of my own. I just started The Scarlet Letter, and the intro describes some elderly folk. It got me to pondering the reason I wasn't against having kids before. It's simple, and selfish, as most things human tend to be. I just keep picturing the family tree and knowing it will snuff out and I'll leave a dead and lonely stub of a branch. I will be an afterthought to those that remain on my tree. To me, that is sad. I really have an interest in my family history, and I won't be able to pass that on. No one will wonder about me, and if for some reason they do, they may think me infertile or some such thing to explain why I didn't procreate. Maybe not. The world is changing in that way. I will be the lonely aunt who never had kids who you visit out of obligation. Just feels weird and lonely to consider. Then I realized what I've really been neglecting is friendships and the upkeep of relationships. That is how people without kids survive into their old age. Death is less sad as you age. It makes more sense. By the time I grow old, if I am so lucky, I will be death weary. It will be a part of life. Not the poignant ripping pain that it might be today if someone close to me were to pass. But that's something I respect the old for. They are battle weary and seasoned in the experience of death. I wish it weren't so taboo. One of our boys talks about death when he's sword fighting and such and my gut reaction was to tell him that's not nice, but I pulled back. Why isn't it nice? It's a fact of life. A much neglected and avoided lesson that we continue to try to hide under our covers from. It deserves contemplation and discussion and acceptance. It's not a dirty word. Written 02/2016.

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