It takes a village to raise a child. Although that might not necessarily be 100% true, it would sure be nice. When and if I do find it, any kind of help is always appreciated and welcomed in my book. However, help is not it… I would have truly loved to have a village or just anyone witness and experience my daughters growing up. I would have loved to have someone to hear and see what they say and how they react… to watch the way their tiny minds work and develop day by day. Nevertheless, I would have loved to share what I experience with them with someone who is genuinely interested hear what my eldest told me when so and so happened or what my youngest did, when I don’t know who said what or even the two sentence conversations they have together or with someone on the street. I would like to save the moments they pass through and excitedly tell it to someone who cares, without wondering or seeing rolling-eyes of weather or not they are even listening, let alone find it as fascinating. I would have loved to share those tiny microscopical events that are going to eventually lead to the manifestation of their character and decisions later on and to what has directly led to how they are currently behaving.
Sadly enough, the one person who is supposed to be interested and is supposed to be keen to have me share these moments with him and should find it necessary so he’d get to know them better, their father, rarely finds it stimulating or ever has the time nor energy to listen. They are insignificant to him. He probably thinks that his genes and the couple of hours a week he spends with them, are enough to know who they truly are. He probably thinks that he is smart enough to understand them like he assesses random people. Regrettably, he barely knows them and deals with them like a stranger, who comes in yelling because one started screaming for no apparent reason to him… or he gets them a gift that they have quite a few of… or answers questions about their lives that are either vague or do not apply to them.
Those little tiny moments will be left at large. Unfortunately they will be left untold, because I have no one to share this with… and will only be saved in my humble memory for me to, maybe, tell it to them one day. Only I will be the sole witness to them evolving into humanity. Only I would ever have reason to understand what caused and causes them to behave in a certain manner. So yes a village is certainly a stretch, but it would defiantly be nice.