Sense of family shines a light through gloom

A DAD'S LIFE: Nearest and dearest are what matter most of all, writes ADAM BROPHY

A DAD'S LIFE:Nearest and dearest are what matter most of all, writes ADAM BROPHY

THE NEW YEAR has rarely rolled round so damply. I meet people and we exchange war stories about festivities and holidays and return to work (or lack thereof) and a shoulder shrug seems to roll from one person onto the next, as if any sense of celebration is almost unwarranted in the face of such a collective sense of neglect.

That’s the word that comes to my mind. Not depression or despair, although those things are present in many households, but a sense of neglect, a feeling of being let down.

For a few years, an individual’s financial success was held up as the only legitimate barometer of a person’s worth, but this perception crumbled with the finances of most of those perceived as successful.

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One of the few positives to come from the disintegration of the country’s economic house of cards was, for a while, a renewed sense of community, a belief that we would find a realistic level once again and work through our problems.

That hasn’t happened yet. Intrinsic to any sense of hope was a belief that the people we elect to govern us would represent our need for a reasonable future and fight for it. As a result we swapped one set of stale, corrupt politicos for a fresher bunch in different colour ties, hoping that they would show imagination, determination and inspiration in fighting. For us.

I was sceptical. I saw little difference, bar a sense of indignation which could only carry them so far, in the new crowd from the old mob. Now, a year into the new regime, that scepticism seems warranted. I feel increasingly marginalised in my own country, I feel unheard and unsupported and I look towards the coming year knowing that there are unidentifiable, unpredictable variables in my family’s path that could have great bearing on our lives. To make me feel secure in the face of potential chaos, I look to those who govern us and I do not feel secure at all.

Nor do most people I work with, socialise with or just brush shoulders with in the school yard. People are trapped, out of work, paying mortgages they can’t afford and crushed in the repayment of business debt they had no part of. The Government we elected has shown itself toothless in the protection of its people in the face of capitalism’s demand to be paid.

And the response, which demonstrates the personal relationship many Irish people feel with their representatives, is to be hurt and resigned at being let down yet again, instead of mustering arms in rage and demanding, in the loudest, most strident manner possible, what we need.

We shrug our shoulders and get on with it, peeved but ultimately knowing that we are fully responsible for ourselves. That if we are to make it, we’ll do it through our own creativity and determination, more in spite of our Government than with its support.

Which brings me from my new year apocalypto rant back to family. Everywhere I turned this Christmas, parents were adapting budgets and realigning expectations. What may have passed for necessary in years past became optional as the word “austerity” hung in the air like the odour rising from your uncle as he snoozed and digested his sprouts. The only place this sense of negative anticipation didn’t have an effect was on the kids themselves.

I’m not going to say the festive magic brought a light to my eyes as their little faces danced with the joy of it all. No, I still spent more than I should to buy their happiness, but the fact is I know that didn’t matter.

What they rely on above all else is for us to simply be there. They may expect much from us, demand sometimes way more than we can hope to give, but the constant is our presence and support and their faith that this will not change.

They don’t see beyond this unit. There are other influential factors – school, sports, clubs – but this unit is the be all and end all and it hasn’t altered just because my pocket is being emptied by the rapacious long arm of our finance minister for crimes I did not commit.

For this new year, I reject my sense of neglect. Instead, I vow to get properly mad and depend only on those closest to me. I’m going all Corleone, I’m relying on the family.