All the Fathers Out there

To all the fathers out there.
Worried and anxious
Imperfect & flawed
Goofy and childlike
Strong & dependable
Present or absent

Some shuffled off the mortal coil
Too soon
Others succumbing
To the ravages of time.
Others headed for the hills
Once they heard the words
“You’re going to be a father.”
Or found
All this responsibility
Frightening.
Too much to bear.
The men who
Should never have been
Fathers
Or who never had the chance
Despite being ready made.
The men who took on the role
Of fathers
When they could
Have stayed in the shade

Fathers who double up
As mothers
And mothers who double up
As fathers.
And fathers who…
Are just that.
Fathers.
Who work hard
To provide for their kids.
Or stay at home
To do the same
But in a different way
Who pick up their kids
When they fall
Who dress up silly
To make them laugh
And lift them up
On their shoulders
So they can see the world
Better.

We see you
And salute you
For the influence you’ve had
The examples you’ve set.
(Sometimes by default)
Of how to be
And not to be
A father.

It’s not easy
And the world
Demands a lot
Of a man
And a father
These days.
You don’t just
Become a father
Overnight
When the going gets tough
You got to step up
And earn the right
Show them the way
Be their light
But the rewards
Far outweigh
The negative.
The opportunity
To shape their lives
Leave a legacy

It is the best thing
You’ll ever do

Goals for 2021: Part 2

Those of you who know me, know me to be the reactive; cautious; play it safe type of guy who prefers to stay in the background and observe what’s going on around him before making a decision. Or let things happen and then respond to them.

Sometimes and for some people, this can be a good thing, even the right thing to do! Prevent us from making impulsive; knee-jerk decisions which could lead to hurt; loss or suffering. Other times, however, it can work against you, preventing you from moving forward or making positive steps or changes in your life because you feel the need to analyse everything to the nth degree before you reach a decision.

This, I’ve found, can trap you in a never ending cycle of over-thinking, fearful of doing anything new in case something goes wrong, paralysing you in the process because you see all that can go wrong instead of all that can go right. That’s not a nice place to be, trust me, spending more time swimming around in your head than being proactive and taking the initiative in living your life.

That’s not to say that I’m afraid of taking “the road less travelled” as written by the poet: Robert Frost. And writing poetry; film reviews and performing in a circus skills company is hardly the route of a guy who likes to play it safe, you might rightly argue. True. Though again, you can write from the comfort of your own home and not venture outside your front door.

In light of all this, my focus and goals for the year ahead will simply be to:

1) think less and do more, without totally abandoning reason.

2) Make the things and people I’ve used as excuses not to do or complete my blog; book or whatever else the motivation to actually get it done. For example: I can’t find the time to write or draw; travel; learn a new language or whatever else you’d always wanted to do, because I’m too tired; have jobs to do around the house or kids to mind. Let them be your reasons for achieving these goals. For me it’s my 2 girls whom I want to leave behind a written legacy of who I am/was and I how I see/saw the world. That I’m not just a father who talks about doing things but actually goes out and does them.

3) Grief, much like fear, can paralyse a person too if you let it; leave you angry; full of regret; with a deep void and stop you from living life. I can testify to that. Don’t let it! Use it as fuel to keep you focused on the wonderful days that lie ahead knowing that your deceased loved ones are looking down on you with love and pride. Do it for them too! 😁😁👍👍

FREEZE TIME

Wish that I could’ve frozen time

Halted it completely in its tracks

Made it that the bells wouldn’t chime

That you wouldn’t fade to black

Wish I could’ve wrapped you

And your fragile little frame,

Stooped in humble service

Like a perpetual prayer,

up in cotton wool

In bubble wrap

In my arms

Breathe fresh life

Into your lungs

But cancer had set its trap

Aggressively it had struck

And your body slowly wasted away

To mere skin & bone

As if you were made to atone

For some ancient sin

You’d buried deep within

A thought I scarce can entertain

For it would stain

Your memory

Your legacy

You were too pure

Too gentle

For this earth

Hope you find the peace

You’re looking for

To make your sacrifices

Worth.

 

Wish that I could freeze time

Halt it completely in its tracks

Get a marker & draw a line,

Across which you cannot pass

For fear that you might get older

Grow up too soon

Lose your childlike innocence

For you’re too young to shoulder

Such burdens.

If that makes any sense.

Put together your very own

Wardrobe to Narnia

Where you’ll never grow old

Or succumb to disease

Where you’ll never be told

What to do

Or have to appease

You’ll sit on the throne

Guided by the great lion

And rule your kingdom

With kindness and compassion

Love and wisdom

Strength & dignity

For the whole of your life

 

 

 

 

 

 

SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN

“Suffer the little children to come onto me”

Christ said.

And boy have they suffered.

Much more than he ever intended

Much more than a child ever should

Borne out of wedlock

Shame on them!

Tut, tut, tut

So ye thought fit to rip them apart

From their parents

And place them in “religious” institutions

Where they were beaten; raped and abused

With impunity

No consequences

Just immunity

To the offences

Swept under the carpet

Robbed of all their dignity and innocence.

By those meant to protect and nurture them

Those self-same children

Frightened; confused and vulnerable children

Have grown up now

(If they made it beyond the gravestone)

Grown up into angry; weary adults.

Broken and battered

But not defeated

Disillusioned;

Wary of trusting anyone.

Fearful of physical intimacy

Wary of letting anybody in

Behind the wall.

That high; thick; concrete wall

They’ve erected to protect themselves

From any future; potential hurt

Catholic Church

This is your legacy.

Not one of faith

Not one of love

Or hope

But of pain; fear and bitterness

A Shadow Cast

“Are you John Hume’s son?”

They would inquire,
Once they had caught wind of my surname
“I am”
Came the immediate; proud reply.
“Nothing to do with his namesake John Hume up in the North by any chance”
They would pursue.
Both men of peace. Both much respected.

“I worked with your father when he was Hospital Administrator”
“I was in the Civil Defence with your dad”
“I used to work with him in the court house”
“Ah, I remember working with John in Kilroy’s”
“Didn’t he do the Mater Hospital Pools?”
“He was a good man. A kind man. Always had time for everybody.
Was an absolute gent. Always got things done. Always had a smile
On his face.”

“Who is this man?” I thought to myself
This man they call John Hume
The man with a plan
This man of whom they speak
With such fondness and high regard.
With veneration almost
As though he were a saint
To be revered.
A giant among men
Chosen to walk among us mere mortals
Without equal.
Yet treating everyone equally
Such high standards
Such lofty heights
Such charm and charisma.
I did not really know this man
Nor he me.
He was a stranger to me.
And I to him.
A mystery wrapped in an enigma.
Not a patch on him
Yet cut from his cloth
So something of him
Must have rubbed off on me
Right?!

Yet he loved me unconditionally
Encouraged my talents
Embraced the path I chose to walk,
Even though it wasn’t pensionable
Nor secure
Walking the extra mile with us all
Bending over backwards to support
Always expressed his pride in me,
Via our mutual translator:
My mum. His wife.
He said to her
“I wish I had Ken’s way with words”
I said to her
“I wish I had my dad’s way with people”

You cast a large shadow over us all dad
Spreading far back into a time before I began
Before I was a twinkle in my mother’s eye
Comforting and warm as a thick blanket
Suffocating and inspiring in equal measure.
Your name carried so much substance
And character. Had a gravity to it
So loaded with expectation and history
That I sometimes stumbled under its weight
A weight that I’m only now learning to carry
And embrace.

A rich tapestry of experiences
Sewn together by the same name
By the same man. Bound
Together forever by
The same man’s sorrow
Which made one family, two.
One family’s loss
Became another families birth
Multiplying his legacy
And casting his shadow
Way beyond what he could
Have ever imagined.

Written by Ken Hume
09/10/2015
Copyright of Ken Hume 2015