internal clock

i've always been aware of time's fleeting breeze. tick. tick. tick.

perhaps it began when my father died. or perhaps it began when my mother's kidney became mine.

or perhaps i hear it now.

nevertheless, i've always heard a clock ringing in my ears.

life is short, indeed, and to be present in every moment remains a challenge.

i have struggled with this. there is no security. idealism, yes. but there are choices. choices we make, but have little control over.

a long time ago i made a choice. controversial, yes. but it resonated deep within me.

i never wanted children.

ah, i briefly flirted with the idea when k and i looked after our godson, mr. e, one day a week for a year. yes, i fell in love. but plentiful reasons for my abstinence abounded.

my health was first and foremost. exhaustion. disappointment. overpopulation.

reduce, reuse, recycle.

will i be met with the proverbial "you'll never know the love of a child?". most definitely.

adoption. fostering. they ignite the soul. valid. practical. spectacular. choices i embrace.

but there is so much more to this decision.

losing my father at age 10 to such a vile, despicable illness scarred my heart. and now i am estranged from my mother and my brother.

lost. floating. orphan.

am i cynical? perhaps. i suffered a painful youth and the present is filled with disappointment and regret. my family unit destroyed. i no longer believe in family. my family are my friends. i love my friends and their offspring. they bring me joy, enchantment, delight, respect.

but that journey is not for me.

not for me.

so my internal clock is not the throbbing of my womb. my uterus lies dormant.

my clock reminds me of the days i have lost. the days i long for. and the days i hope for.

end of days?