My son was perfectly sure that he didn’t want to be a dad… but how did I feel?
BY JANE CORRY
I’ve never been what you might call a grandmotherly type. Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t mind being a granny one day. But if I’m not, well, it wouldn’t bother me. It’s not like having children, when I’d wanted at least two.
But I have found that more and more of my friends are becoming grandparents. They keep telling me that it’s changed their lives. One even said it’s a love like she’d never known before.
That seems rather over the top to me.
Besides, I don’t hold out much hope when it comes to grandchildren. My only son Matthew shows no sign of settling down, even now he’s in his late thirties.
His girlfriends seem to last an average of six months, which gives me about enough time to call them by their correct names instead of muddling them with the previous one. Then just as I’ve got it right, the new one comes along. It reminds me of these storm names.
“I don’t think I want children,” he tells me. “I like my life as it is. Anyway, I wouldn’t have time to fit one in.”
Talking of time, I have a friend who has taken early retirement so she can look after her grandchild. She says she gets paid in love. Frankly, she looks exhausted, although I have to admit her smile has become broader. Meanwhile, my son continues to play the field. Maybe this is a good thing. His father and I married very young. He went out to “play the field” too when my son was born. I’ve no idea which field he’s on now, although I do believe Matthew receives Christmas cards from his dad.
Then one day, my son comes round. Instantly I can tell something is up. “Remember the girl I went out with last October?” he asks.
“No,” I say.
“Maybe you didn’t meet her. She’s called Poppy. Well, she’s pregnant.”
Did I hear right?
“She doesn’t want any money from me. She just thought I ought to know.”
“And how do you feel?” I ask, still trying to take this in.
“A bit shocked, but also relieved that she doesn’t want any commitment. We hardly knew each other. It was just a fling – well, it was on my part.”
My son can be very selfish.
“What about the baby? It will want a father in its life.”
“Well, I didn’t have one,” retorts Matthew. “And it didn’t do me any harm.”
I’m beginning to wonder.
“Where does Poppy live?” I ask.
I expect him to say London because he goes there a lot on business, but he names
