sometimes i feel like tom cruise in minority report. remember how he would watch the film footage of his son over and over and replay the day he went missing and all its events again and again in his mind? remember how agonizing it was for him and even for you as the viewer, how you felt for him?
sometimes i see pictures of my kids and i feel like that. i feel like tom cruise, viewing the pictures as if separated from mark and terra, (as i am by work and obligation and school and a day’s activities, and any physical distance.) i long for them and i fear for them.
i don’t fear some horrific thing happening to them. (i merely rely on odds and karma to hope that stuff away, along with some vigilance.) i fear the world and all its cruelties, all its rude awakenings, all its unkind moments, its puppy love and encounters with policemen, its realizations about the system and money and how things work.
it’s funny, too, my little creatures could hardly be more selfish. it seems seeking one’s own is definitely a natural state and so i am helping them to learn the value of considering others. they fight amongst themselves and it is always the one against the other and of course, my six-year-old is more cunning than my four-year-old although he has some tricks of his own. it is interesting though because generally speaking they both are highly attuned to possessions and materials. they want stuff and they want to declare ownership of that stuff even if it’s not theirs but is merely in their possession in a given moment.
it is a complex dynamic this need to want or want to need and i think the buddha and jesus and perhaps even allah would agree with me on this one, (though i am not well versed on the tenets of the koran,) it is worth trying to overcome it. you see, when one is able to set that stuff aside, the petty wanting of a child, it seems to me they are free to become great and by great I mean, wholly kind, beautifully productive, givers and creators.
i look at those pictures of my children. i see mark grimacing over his mother’s shoulder dismayed at the sight of a camera staring at him and i can see what he wants more than any other thing. he wants to be loved. and, he wants to love. he wants to be considered and he wants harmony with his surroundings. he has zero malice in him. zero, in spite of the times when he may hit at school or refuse to share. those are the meanderings of a child trying to find his place, trying to know his boundaries and learn where his wants and needs should end and where the wants and needs of others, perhaps, should begin.
sometimes i see pictures of my kids and i feel like that. i feel like tom cruise, viewing the pictures as if separated from mark and terra, (as i am by work and obligation and school and a day’s activities, and any physical distance.) i long for them and i fear for them.
i don’t fear some horrific thing happening to them. (i merely rely on odds and karma to hope that stuff away, along with some vigilance.) i fear the world and all its cruelties, all its rude awakenings, all its unkind moments, its puppy love and encounters with policemen, its realizations about the system and money and how things work.
it’s funny, too, my little creatures could hardly be more selfish. it seems seeking one’s own is definitely a natural state and so i am helping them to learn the value of considering others. they fight amongst themselves and it is always the one against the other and of course, my six-year-old is more cunning than my four-year-old although he has some tricks of his own. it is interesting though because generally speaking they both are highly attuned to possessions and materials. they want stuff and they want to declare ownership of that stuff even if it’s not theirs but is merely in their possession in a given moment.
it is a complex dynamic this need to want or want to need and i think the buddha and jesus and perhaps even allah would agree with me on this one, (though i am not well versed on the tenets of the koran,) it is worth trying to overcome it. you see, when one is able to set that stuff aside, the petty wanting of a child, it seems to me they are free to become great and by great I mean, wholly kind, beautifully productive, givers and creators.
i look at those pictures of my children. i see mark grimacing over his mother’s shoulder dismayed at the sight of a camera staring at him and i can see what he wants more than any other thing. he wants to be loved. and, he wants to love. he wants to be considered and he wants harmony with his surroundings. he has zero malice in him. zero, in spite of the times when he may hit at school or refuse to share. those are the meanderings of a child trying to find his place, trying to know his boundaries and learn where his wants and needs should end and where the wants and needs of others, perhaps, should begin.
it is as true with terra too. i have a picture of her from the same day, when we visited the snow. she did not want to be bothered to pose for the picture but graciously she turned to me and made the best smile she could which ended up being super cute actually. it was different. it was accommodating, a sly tilt of the head accompanied by pursed lips turned up slightly at the corner and terra’s wide, curious eyes. she could not be more graceful if her name was audrey hepburn.
and that picture too, hurts. it is a reminder of all i have, all that could be lost if tragedy struck or i screwed up. it is a healthy reminder of everything i need to live up to on a daily basis. if it makes me cry it is from joy and pressure and a will to be as perfect a dad as i can possibly be, (knowing i have fallen far short of perfection so many times.)
terra, too, is angelic by nature. while she does seek her own it is because she is a child and lacks experience. i have no doubt when she grows into the woman she will become she will be a wonderful citizen of the world. unlike mark she is not prone to say “i love you.” she says it but with her actions. she is fluent in chinese and so I know the gobs of money I am spending on her private schooling is not for naught. she works hard at her homework. when she is scolded she takes it personally and feels genuinely bad for her shortcoming.
we were on a trip recently and found ourselves sharing a bed and at 5am mark popped awake like an early bird ready for a worm. he went to the bathroom and when he returned i asked him to snuggle up with me and try to rest a bit longer. as he put his head in the crook of my arm and looked indiscriminately up at the ceiling he had this comment for me; “daddy, when you are mad at me it feels like you don’t love me.” (is that heartbreaking or what?)
i know that question was a product of my imperfection. i know there have been times when my patience was in short supply and mark was being, well, four, and i expressed anger and frustration and in my eyes he saw utter disregard, (which in this gray world and that split second was 100% accurate.) i told him i always love him and that i was angry but i am just trying to help him be the best mark he can be. he seemed to accept that.
the thing is i am different than john anderton, (tom cruise's character.) i have not lost my children. i have them and i want to cherish them everyday. but i can relate to that feeling cruise's character represents. it's not something i dwell on but when they are not around and i look at a picture, i long to have them near me, which just feels more natural than whatever i am doing, more right. the pictures are bittersweet. they are memories. i love them even though they injure me ever so slightly.
