Sunday, October 23, 2016

Paterfamilias


I sit at one end of the table, some of my family around me.
My partner is opposite. My niece and her husband, along
with their toddler, are next. And then my son and his partner
are at the other end. It is Sunday morning and we have gathered
for brunch at a small cafe that was once a train station. Trams
run through it now and the room bristles with a noisy, homely atmosphere
as casual groupings cluster around the mix of tables. I love this city,
but I've not lived here for over thirty years. We've come to watch my son
perform. His course is done, his graduation show complete. Now, he starts
to cobble bits of work together to see if he can carve out an actor's life.
I sit back for a moment and realise I am the eldest here. This is the generation
below me and their offspring coming through. Parts of my family around me.
I am moved. What is mirrored back to me is the simple fact of belonging.
I can rest in my age, my own hard-won experience, and this relaxed love.



25 Sept 2016

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