A Father's Love

The time tunnel today on Heart was 1989 a very strange, wonderful yet horrible year for me in this journey in life. It gave me the very best of times it gave me the very worst of times.

Firstly let me deal with the bad, a friend once told me that you eat the bits of the sandwich that you hate first so as to enjoy the best bits last therefor leaving you with a wonderful memory. Very philosophical and very true.

OK the worst of 1989. I got married. It was the wrong thing to do. I don't intend to dwell too much on this but I knew the day that I took my vows that I was lying. How could I not be lying for I was still in love with someone else. Yet still I put duty first. Why duty? Well half of my family are Irish Catholic and I would never have been able to look either my mother or grandmother in the face had I pulled out at the last minute. Not because pulling out at the last minute was considered a bad thing in this culture but because my wife to be was pregnant. And you don't walk away from your responsibilities in my family.

So I didn't and I got married in pomp and circumstance at St Peter's Church in Cirencester. Full penguin suits, the works.

And then to the best of 1989. November 30th to be precise and the best birthday present a father could have ever received, a son, Gareth. I delivered him as the midwife was running between three births, a major flu bug was sweeping around at the time and they were short staffed. She knew that I knew how to deliver a child but even though  protested I had never actually done it she gave me the gown and calmly said "It's about time you had a practice then". What a way to learn, the responsibility of delivering someone else's child is enormous I cannot describe the emotions that I felt whilst delivering my own.

I think this is why I have such a bond with my son. I have a different type of bond with my other children, equally as special but different to the one with Gareth. And that is only right for each of my children are different.

Now Gareth follows in my footsteps at Liverpool, although he is studying engineering as his first degree, and he is building a life of his own. He is strong and thoughtful and emotive. He has grown into fine young man. I am so very proud of what he has become, just as I am proud of all my children.

So why tell you about this today, well I guess it's because I am feeling emotional myself after reading the tweets from Harry Moseley and his family. I have buried 4 children, all still birth's and the pain of losing them was beyond belief but I cannot imagine what is happening in the Moseley household right now and I hope that it never happens to my family. All I know is a father's love is something that is without a doubt, like a mother's love, a binding passion of two souls that can never be taken away. Once a parents love come 's into existence it is the strongest force in the Universe and something that will never die.

I send my blessings and love to the Moseley family, even though they neither know me nor probably never will. I wish them all peace and love with everything that is in my soul and everything that I am. I hope, and although I am not religious pray, that a miracle will happen and that the medics are wrong.

If love is the overriding power of the universe then let us hope that today love will find a way to heal.