My 11 yr old son and I were listening to the shipping forecast at 5am this morning. Being up before sunrise always brings out the melancholic aspect of me. I have learnt that this is a time for sadness and the darkest of thoughts. I told him that I used to listen to the World Service when he was a tiny baby, and that the shipping forecast was my favourite part of the day. Instantly soothing to me, like being swaddled tight in a blanket. I would get excited if I heard a force 10 gale, and would wait excitedly for my partner to wake so I could tell him that
The husky voice of the announcer said “Low Biscay 1010, low just south of
We drove into town through the early morning mist and I dropped him at the car park where all his school mates were waiting to climb aboard their coaches. I watched him amble across to his friends with his bag slung across his shoulder.
Don’t talk to strangers in the service stations, always stick with your friends and don’t wear your iPod when you are crossing roads I said to myself in my head as he slouched casually against one of the coaches.
I can’t bear that he is growing up. The world is full of danger and people who will hurt him. I want to wrap him up tight in his cellular blanket, as I did when I was mad and listening to the Shipping Forecast at 5 each morning.
I cried all the way home, weeping gently for my own lost childhood, not his. His world is not full of fear and danger. That was mine.