WHEN I was a boy, the world was different.
Things do change. We all understand that now, though I never expected to play a part in it. Like my father, and his father before him, I assumed that my life was destined to follow a similar path. And, like them, I would in time bequeath my lot to my own sons. It didn’t quite work out like that: not in the end.
Looking back, I suppose it’s because I was different. Don’t ask me how or why, such considerations are long past relevance, but even so I sensed something was wrong with the world that I wasn’t then capable of expressing.
I was always a one for curiosity and wonder, something of a daydreamer my parents said. Often, I felt out of place, but in those days I was unaware that the seeds of such frustration were sown by the limitations of my birthright.
For a short but precious time, though, I was allowed to be a child, freed by the grace of ‘not knowing any better’. They were a few brief years of wonder, of a dependant’s optimism, of a child’s wilful questioning of the state of being. It was a time to play and learn before the hard demands of adult responsibility caught up with precocious spirit.
There’s a motor there, however ill-formed, however fragile, that only time and experience – not to mention a generous dose of luck – can convene against the consensus of mediocrity.
I trust I played my childhood for all it was worth, but it always nags me – could I not have yearned for more? That’s always the way, isn’t it? Ungrateful youth!
YES, I was quite a burden to my parents at times, though I like to think that they were proud of me, even if they aren’t here to say ‘well done, son’.
In truth, I think they would be horrified by what I have become and by what I did to reach this place of reflection. They were ever a product of their time. Still, parental approval hardly rates as a major consequence in my life. Never did, really.
They did their best, according to the manner of the times, but I was wayward, in my own way. It showed early, this cross-cut grain in my soul, but I wouldn't be where I am today without these peculiar traits.
Perhaps none of us would be.
And therein lies something of the tale of our times.