I’m preparing myself for talks that I know are coming, or more probably, need to initiate.
Beau and Chicky are growing exponentially fast and absent words are becoming more noticeable.
Gone are days of curled up babies in cots sleeping unaware.
Changed are toddlers holding my hand brushing their teeth to go to bed; only to look out the window to watch my car take me to my house.
Today there are two young boys who are constructing their lives in the environment of me visiting every couple of days.
It used to be less frequent, but it was never just fortnightly.
People ask me if they know that I’m gay, or if they ‘know’.
It’s not a concept I’ve given any considerable thought. Without being too new age, it’s not about the label of being ‘gay’.
I am many things to my children. I am their carer, their teacher, their healer, their spiritual guider, their playmate, their cooking hand, their movie-mate and their link to discovering the world around them as they reach outside the safety of our family unit and into the larger community.
As to all the parts of the whole, it is the all encompassing role as father that I am.
I’m not gay to them. I am dad. Pure and simple. We truly have labelled ourselves.
Put a human being in front of a child for a moment and you have the truth, right there in front of you.
You don’t need to have children to experience this, but those of us who are intuitive enough when around children can sense that they are put on earth to teach us about ourselves.
It’s when we layer them with our beliefs and rules that we alter innocent mindsets.
My answer is not about what I do, whom I am with, or where I live, but who I am as a person – an important person in their lives.
I centre my imaginary answer around the reason why I left, given my personal circumstances: choices and ability.
We all travel our own paths. The journey may be the same, but the steps are always different.
So the answer to my sons on this day when I sit them down is: I sacrificed living with you so I could have a life with you.