Two

Two – two years since you were born Colin. I remember as if it was yesterday. I just got made redundant from my job, was interviewing for the next opportunity and we were in the middle of a recession. Yes, I could have stayed where I was and moved away from London, but that wouldn’t have been an option, particularly with you on your way.

Two – there were only two of us before you arrived. Your mother and me. A two bedroom house, two cats, a more or less two seater car, and “two” many evenings out in town. And you, Colin, didn’t want to make an appearance.

Your mother got induced, and I remember holding you in my arms for the first time. “Why is he not crying” I asked the midwife. “First baby?” she replied, adding that I shouldn’t worry, you would be crying more than I had ever imagined. I couldn’t tell you how right she was.

Your arrival changed my life, it changed our life. The sleepless nights at the beginning, the different bottle feeds, the weaning, and you growing up. Just last weekend I watched some videos from you being 6 and 8 months old, and you had changed so much. And you have changed so much since.

You babies grow up far too fast. I was paralysed, almost to the extend that I didn’t want to bath you. I didn’t want to make a mistake. I was afraid and curious at the same time. I didn’t have the bonding your mother had, any mother has to her newborn.

You changed the way we think. We started to think about the future, we got more considerate towards others, and you became the focal point in our life. You became what we started living for, and with.

Colin, it has only been two years. Two of hopefully many more. I keep joking that you will leave the house when I am 54. But I don’t mean it like that. I believe that time will pass much quicker than I would ever imagine. And, I have so many plans.

Apologies if I am struggling to find new ideas for us to do things at the weekend. Swimming, train rides, walks and playing in the garden seems to be the standard. But soon you will speak and we can go for walks and have chats. We can speak about life and what you can expect.

I cannot wait to show you my world, for you to discover your world, and for you to understand life. What is important in life, and what is obsolete. So you find your own way, your own life, your own priorities and make the best of the given time you have here on earth.

You are a fighter. You are a strong boy with lots of energy. Of course I’d love to see you playing rugby, going to university and get a good job. But maybe that is not what your plans are. Maybe life has completely other plans for both of us.

So let’s see what the next two hours bring, the next two days, weeks or months. Our holiday, time we can spend together.

I love you Colin. And the last two years have passed so fast, that I’d like to turn back time sometimes just to pick a few moments we spend together and re-live them.

Happy Birthday,
Your dad.