lisdexicwriter

so it goes like this - I watched my son, my baby, graduate high-school today and my heart is ripping with joy and pain and confusion. I have been a father as long as I can remember, was kid when I had kids. I changed that man nappy, read him to sleep every night, sang sumertime til I was horse. I watched him learn to walk and walked through his heroin addiction with him. I held him while he cried over broken hearts and when he kicked. And when he stood up and took his diploma it struck me, its up to him now. Like his father before him he will navigate life as best he can. I've given him my strength and my wild mad heart, What he does with it is between him and the goddess. I can no longer protect him from the scars that will create him.
But this is the meat of the matter for me - Who the fuck am I, when I'm not his father anymore? Oh I know I will still be his father from time to time. We have a life time commitment to each-other. But day to day, that job is drawing to a close. Will my novels be enough? Will I pack my giant dog into my truck and head for Veracruz? Is the job title "Father" all that has kept me tethered to this life? When most young people were out finding themselves I was knocking out the bills 24/7. I pushed me to do things I might never have done. I've lived in film, left live theater because there was no cash in that old game. And in turn film my bitchy mistress has shown me the world. Lost me in Moscow, flung me to Portugal and london. And now my life is turning again, this time the world of books calls me like siren to crash on her rocks.
Who will I be tomorrow? I guess I'll just have to suck down the bile and wait and see. The path of my life only makes any sense looking back wards. But that only informs me to where I have been and never where I am going.