Oh, I considered it, of course. More than once.
Who couldn’t love my adorable son, Paul, playing with his puppet in a sunlit garden? That was the easy part.
Sadly, unconditional love doesn’t work that way.
I loved him before he was born.
And I loved him as a snuggly baby, as a cute toddler, as a happy and curious child, as an intelligent and fun-loving young teenager… and it was still a piece of cake.
And I still loved my son when he became a cruel and bitter monster from the depths of hell.
‘Going through a phase,‘ I think they call it. ‘Having issues.’
No, no, no, that really doesn’t cover it.
Continue reading “Unconditional love: why I didn’t bury my son under the patio”