The journey that one embarks on when having children is a bit like the delta of the Nile. What is initially one stream at some point breaks up into a series of independent streams – each with its own direction and character.
The one adventure that I never really thought through when I was younger was: What does it mean to have kids? I had the basics, that is, pass on values and faith but what else? Little did I think about the character traits and idiosyncrasies – or that bizarre combination that a husband and wife bring to the mix – the stubbornness of one and the vagueness of the other and all the other immeasurable combinations. In reality this is a scary proposition – two human beings endeavouring to create another in, something like, their own image. Being slow learners we did this seven times. Each was different, unique and yet there was something scarily “us” about them too.
It was April. Hetty had gone into the hospital on Saturday but the birth process slowed to a crawl. I remember it being a long. When Jeanette was born it Sunday afternoon. A redhead – who would believe it? We were over the moon and I raced off to the evening church service to tell everyone.