Its in the blood…

Oct 25

I have been watching various shows/movies/cartoons lately about ancient Britain and Ireland for this past week. Not that that in itself is noteworthy– anybody who knows me is aware of my love for things Welsh, Scottish and Irish. The epiphany that took place last night while watching Liam Neeson play Michael Collins in the film of the same name is what became worth mentioning.
For the better part of the last 20 years I have been studying, both academically and recreationally, the histories of conflicts between the English and the neighboring nations that comprise the “British Isles”. For some unknown reason I have always been on the side of the “oppressed” or “conquered” peoples who fight to maintain a national identity; always feeling such pride in my non-English heritage, while repugnantly shunning the Anglo-Saxon blood I inherited. But something happened after watching Michael Collins. Something clicked in my brain that resulted in a personally disturbing realization: what if I really do enjoy conflict? What if I have actually spent these many years sabotaging myself in search of the next struggle against anyone or anything who I deem as an oppressor? What if I am “programmed” to do so because of centuries of rebellion and resistance genetically transferred from my forefathers to me?
But then I look at some of the circumstances I have found myself in and realize that perhaps were it not for the Celtic blood in my veins, I would have succumbed to defeat and given up on myself. Nearly every bloody day I am fighting with the mother of two of my daughters. And damn near every bloody time, I fight this never ending battle against my will. I would love to have a tranquil life. A life where I can be the best damn dad I can without having to deal with the latest tantrum or whim or threat.
I get so tired… literally. Exhaustion is always creeping in to my mind, telling me to just give up: “Let it go Troy… the girls do not need parents who are constantly at each others’ throats. Just walk away and hope that the girls understand that you do it for them, for their chance to have a life without the struggles of their parents spilling over on them. They may be better off having a childhood without you.” And I consider these arguments; dwell on their viability. And my heart breaks every time I consider it because of my personal loss. But I tell myself that it is not about me, it cannot be about my wants or wishes. It HAS to be about the girls! And that’s when the Irish kicks in… I CAN’T let those girls lose their father! No f*@!ing way! I will fight. I will fight until my children do not need me to fight anymore. I have spent all these years studying Irish uprisings, Welsh resistances and Scottish rebellions to learn from my ancestors that if something is worth fighting for, one NEVER quits.
….until one is shot, drawn and quartered, beheaded, hanged or sent into exile. Unfortunately for their mother, I do not see these things happening anytime soon.

2 comments

  1. celeste /

    Never give up were your children are concerned,if takes having as little as possible to do with there mother. I wish that my parents would have been more like you because as children we do not understand why they would walkaway even they think it is for the best. so the best of Luck to you Troy.

  2. Good post, sir.
    However – if it were not for the Celtic in your blood, you’d be better looking … says the guy with Celtic blood driving his bipedal meat sack.

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