Written 19th August 2017:
I'm not spiritual, and I'm definitely not religious, and I don't believe in an afterlife even though I constantly "talk" to my deceased family members. After several months of working without a break Jess and I took a well deserved holiday last week and returned to the Gold Coast. We chose to drive, and stayed one night in Byron Bay then four in Surfer's Paradise. It was a 1,900km round trip which gave me plenty of time to ponder my thoughts while cruising up and down the Pacific Highway. Honestly, I'm not even sure I truly understand what it means but I think while we were there I found some inner peace and another degree of happiness.
Before the holiday, late nights and early mornings with very little sleep were beginning to be the norm and it was taking a toll. A few books I had read had mentioned the relaxing qualities of classical music, so I experimented and played Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite as I got into bed. It worked, I slept well those nights. Being able to drift away into sleep in a relaxed state was so good, I cannot say. I had begun to contemplate seeking medical help for insomnia but I am still petrified of the thought of taking medication to sleep (not propofol, in case you're making that link) and never waking up. Since turning 30 last year I have become very aware of my own mortality and the fact that once it's over, it's over. That's it.
This has led me to look closer at my life and what I want from it, what really makes me happy. Obviously, my wife is top of the list. You hear the clichés about "Family is everything", and right now that makes more sense to me than anything. I've enjoyed my cricket, I've enjoyed flying planes, watching planes, working with animals but after a long time of struggling to deal with my own pain and battles with depression I am finally beginning to realise where I get my happiness from. I am so lucky to be surrounded with a beautiful family; parents, siblings and children.
This weekend upon returning from the Gold Coast we spent time with my (Australian) nephew and niece. Children really give you a chance to forget the complications of an adult world. They give you the chance to return to that time of your life where all you cared about was what toy you wanted to play with, or who you want to sit next to at the dinner table. They are so trusting with you, and the responsibility you have to look after them is such an honour. There's something magical about watching a child learn different things, whether it's how to crawl, stand, walk or talk, it's such a beautiful thing to see. Even more so when that child has an emotional attachment to you.
What is really sad is that as a man writing about this, it will raise a few eyebrows because it is "not what men are supposed to do"... The reason I am though is because I feel great pride at being a part of my Australian nephew and niece's lives but at the same time a great sadness that I cannot share the same closeness with my English nieces. My eldest niece wasn't even 3 years old when I left the UK, and now she is 7. I've not been there for over half of her life. I saw those earliest magic moments, but missed many milestones since then, and she has tugged at my heart with her words on a few occasions about the distance between us. My youngest (English) niece was born almost a year after I left, I've only spent a total of a couple of weeks with her. I met her for the first time just before our wedding. FaceTime is great but it's not the same. She knows who I am, but it took a long time before she'd want to come near us because she had no idea who we were.
When I first came to Australia aged 20, I stayed with a family (who I have considered my own ever since) who had a one-year-old daughter. I saw her first steps, heard her first words and became very attached to her. When I returned to Australia as a 23 year old, this baby girl was now four. The first time I had a conversation with her was magical. I got to see her go for her first day at school, another milestone I have missed out on with my English nieces. This girl turns 12 soon, is a very accomplished gymnast and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see her at the Olympics, such is her dedication and drive. Yet I still remember those magic moments of a one-year-old girl (who I am not related to), trusting in me and looking up at me with arms outstretched and squeaking the word "Up!" Children can give you perspective about what is really important in the world.
Ever since I can remember, my Grandad impressed upon me that I am the only male Carter in his branch of the family and it is up to me to continue the family name. It was during that first trip to Australia in 2006-07 and forming that emotional bond with my "adopted" family that I knew for sure that I wanted to do just that. I have seen the joy that children have brought to my friends, to my sister, to my in-laws. After this weekend, more than ever, I want nothing more than to become a father and to be the best possible father I can be. I want to take on the challenges of providing and nurturing my own children, and helping them become the best they can be. I want them to study the greats, and become greater.
It's taken a few years of getting to this level of confidence again. They say never work with children or animals, but I have found that working at the Australian Reptile Park and dealing with children (and their parents) has been incredibly therapeutic. I have learnt how to deal with many situations, and characters. I feel that I am as ready as I'll ever be to bring someone into the world that has that magical look in their eyes, that will blindly trust in us, that we are responsible for, and won't have to worry about a thing. I dream about that day that a child can call me "Dad". I believe it is what I was put on this planet to do, and when it happens I know that I won't be able to resist the urge to hold my child, look to the sky and say "This is for you, Grandad. I hope we've made you proud."
