And the child not even 2 years old??
Weāre the children of curmudgeons like @anon67715551, how the duck did we survive at all?? 
I can sit here with an indulgent shrug of the shoulders.
My advice is to get them to their 20s and you can relax then. 
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Is there any room for self actualisation in the interim period?
You must be joking.
The cchas are a clutch of males with no female sibling which did make teen years a bit more straightforward
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I donāt know kidā¦ My father, nor anyone elses father, ever turned up for our matches as kids. Fatherās are turning up leathering the heads off each other now and motherās screaming for the cops to be called. I think the @anon67715551 approach has a lot going for it.
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Posters leaving their babies off to other people to rear them and then complaining that they wonāt sleep when they want
As @backinatracksuit might say
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+1. I think my father turned up at maybe two matches in my lifetime. Gave me a bollocking at half time in a North U12 gaelic football match. I was marking a girl (!!!) from Shannon Rovers, and he told me to stop taking it easy on her. I gave a tour de France from half back for the second half. The only reason he had travelled was that my grandfather was up from Cork and he wanted to go see the match.
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Iām sure your parents did their best for you, havenāt you a stress-free, cushy, pensionable 30 hour week ffs. Mine may have been accustomed to some hit and miss feeding times, unsociable hours with agricultural matters but to this day they will, to a (wo)man speak lovingly and wittily about their youth.
Different times no doubt but parenting remains fundamentally the same.
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Kids had more freedom long ago, doesnāt matter if youāre in rural Roscommon or council estates in Cork City,
Everyone speaks lovingly and wittily about their own youth,
Cushy, 30 hours, stress free, pensionable?? Not sure of the relevance or if itās true
Thatās the truth, matches interfered with his weekend Pints for my aul lad.
My old fella turned up for finals only, I had a bachelor uncle that went to loads of my games though
My oul lad didnāt attend either the county or provincial final when I, a mere youth, won senior medals at the tender age of fifteen.
I suppose he was confident that I had matters well in hand.
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Maybe he was glad of the bit of peace & quiet?
I was a model child, in so many ways
Did you drone on like you do now?
No, Iām even better at it now
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Iām not sure my auld lad ever missed a game since I was a young fella. Heād be roaring all sorts of instructions in from the sideline but over the years youād kind of become immune to it. It was probably more off putting for the opponent. Heād puck every ball on that sideline in between drags of a cigarette and swigs from the water bottle then roar some more. Iāve probably hugged my dad 3 or 4 times in my life that I can remember. Twice at death of both grandparents (his parents) and twice when a final whistle blew in County finals. Less is more I suppose. Its probably why Iām still playing.
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Iāve never hugged the oul lad. Heād take some look at me if I started nowā¦I donāt remember him ever hugging me either. When I bluffed my way into a post grad he told me he was proud of meā¦if heād known the rampage I was about to embark on he might have kept his sudden brief outburst of affection for another time. Thereās obviously a lot to be said for not engaging with your son on an emotional level,because Iāve turned out superbly. Iām definitely not complaining, heās just from a generation that didnāt have what we would call a childhood. His involved being brutalised in school, farm work before and after school, regular reminders of inevitable eternal damnation and second class status. Some man thoughā¦eighty seven and his day comprised of mass, taking rubbish to the dump, feeding cattle, a few hours planting a hedge and making himself dinner.
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Just noticed that the post above was written on 2 January. He dug in for over a month before passing peacefully last Saturday.
Steadfastly refused to go to the Hospice, insisting he died on his own patch. We were stunned and humbled by those who attended the wake. A mate of mine, and serial funeral attendee, remarked that it was the first time that he had to queue in two years.
Itās still a bit raw, even though we were prepared. I was there at the time of his passing, just me and the Mrs as it happened, and it was as peaceful and dignified as could be. The result of the the footballerās win in Corrigan Park had just come through and he went out on a victory.
My mother is holding up remarkably well. Sheās had great support around her. Tough on her today as I headed for Dublin to drop my brother back to the airport.
I know that some of ye attended and sent messages. God bless ye.
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RIP to your dad.
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