New beginnings.

There’s a look women have when they’ve just given birth to a baby. In days gone by, you had to be a father and elect to be in the room to see it and it was your woman doing the business and it was the one single thing you couldn’t help or protect her from the dangers contingent to such an exigent enterprise.

I never did the dad in the waiting room pace up or down smoking his way through a pack of cigarettes, but was always there with her before that sort of stuff became fashionable. You just rubbed her distended tummy up and down as she did the tough girlie thing and apart from that was pretty much useless. She was your babe after all.

In the emotionally draining aftermath, putting that son or daughter into her arms, blood covered, freshly severed umbilical cord, all the whatevers, you could plain see the pride burning out of her.

It was in their face in the exhausted aftermath. “Look, look, see, see what I’ve produced – a new life”. It shone out of them like the elemental thing it is as their baby screeched their lungs out at their first ever breaths of air. It’s an experiential thing a man has a causal part in, but you know it’ll never be quite the same for you. It’s a woman’s experience that you know you’ll never get anywhere near, and also why they’ve got that certain connection to the children you’ll never quite have either.

Nine months of them growing inside her but actually having a very private conversations all the time through it is something no man has invented an ace of trumps for. No badly wounded man has ever cried out for his Daddy, it’s always their Mommie they cry out for from out of no man’s land and the natural impulse is for everybody to scrabble to their aid. The worst thing in the world is listening to that through a long night, but the worser one is knowing you can’t respond to it.

For her, it’s massive. For you, it’s just being helpless, useless and distraught, and running increasingly more frantic circles around her until she has to tell you to stop, or we’re both going home and the whole ‘effing gig is off. Okay, there’s a bit of the drugs kicking in on her side, but you get the message. Dial the whole hysteria back down a bit and don’t be a complete damn fool.

Men are by common regard baser creatures nowadays, but we’re also operators in the danger zone because that’s where some real money can be made to support a family, which is at end of day the prime directive of any alpha male. You do have to take risks, and she does have to be taking a long steady look at you and deciding that it’s something you need to do, but also something you’re both all in on.

Some women acquire a taste for that red meat in the danger zone, and understanding it, realise it’s the nature of the beast they cuddle up to on a regular basis. Our programming is we go out, hunt down, and brain some quadruped and drag it home as some tasty protein for her and our babies, and we’re not much more complex than that when looked at in a certain critical light.

But, sexual selection is a two-way process, I’m afraid. We may, as men, be looking at women and judging them by personality, hair colour, eye colour, a good butt and knowing how well they can wiggle it at you, and that is nominally what we watch for. But, a particular girl’s lasting attributes, and they are always there for you, are a much harder thing for you to put your finger on.

We’re looking for that one girlie who dings our bell, but let’s not kid ourselves here – she’s also looking for her man who’s also going to ding her bell as well. It’s the eternal dance of courtship, and it’s only when you’re a lorra years downwind of it that you realised it even happened. It took a while, but you finally realised you weren’t the first boy and girl in the world to do that flirtatious dance around each other and then finally fall in love.

This seems to have been the Christmas of babies appearing in both my immediate and the extended family. I now have another grandson and have had the pleasure of holding him in my lap for hours as he freshly milk drunk sleeps away another afternoon or evening.

His miniature fingers move so expressively as he sleeps, and yet he can have no baggage in his dreams. I know not what he dreams of, perhaps just colours or shapes, but his tiny perfect hands move constantly as he sleeps and is visited by the dreams only a two-week old infant could be. My dreams are familiar, old, and occasionally not good. Terrible friends I’ve long ago learned to embrace, because I know won’t be going away any day soon. You live a rich life, that’s what you tend to end up with, but that’s a rough with the smooth situation and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

T.E. Lawrence said something in his book the Seven Pillars of Wisdom which from memory comes down to all men dream equally, but some do so in the dusty recesses of their mind at night and awake in the morning to find it was all but vanity, but some men dream with open eyes, and such men are dangerous. I have that terrible intuition about my grandson, but hope he feels the impress of his grandfather’s hand in his palm as he embarks on his journey through life. I won’t be around for those years.

One of my nieces was diagnosed with cancer in her mid twenties, and it was one termed as being aggressive, which is doctor speak for you’re looking at long odds in terms of the survival stakes. Nobody that young should get dealt that card, but in an act of defiance she and her man went ahead with the marriage they’d been planning before the bombshell landed all over them. Fingers crossed, but she made it and over Christmas we were sent a picture of her cuddling her newborn child. She had exactly that look of pride, and by the way, that’s their third child.

When you’re been shown such courageous defiance by younger members of the clan and sept you’ve had the good fortune of being born into, and also seen the result of it running around as happy toddlers, you do have to think it over.

Our planet wobbles around the sun and takes 365 days and about six hours to do so. We’ve set in place some arbitrary thresholds in that cycle, one of which is the point at which a new year begins. We’re on the eve of a new year, 2018, and the thought occurs that it also is a newborn baby event. As with all new babies, it’s an arbitrary hand you get dealt, but also one you get to play.

Let’s play that hand well in 2018. Happy new year to all of you.

©Pointman

Related articles by Pointman:

Love is simply not an option.

Working men.

Click for a list of other articles.

 

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Comments
4 Responses to “New beginnings.”
  1. Phil shore says:

    Happy New Year to you Sir.

    Like

  2. siamiam says:

    Yesterday we lost a beloved classmate.
    Today, Pointman brings us back.

    Happy New Year.

    Like

  3. 42david says:

    A happy new year to all who visit this site and a special one to you Pointy.

    Been married now for fifty five years – sometimes you just can’t help good luck.

    Like

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