Dad’s World with Jonathan deBurca Butler
I didn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I lay there and waited for the day to break. I was pensive. Today was a milestone.
Forty, the big four-o, otherwise known as the big four-oh-where-the-feck-did-those-last-20-years-go. I had to say it to myself a few times to get used to it.
So there I was in the first few moments of this new, old era wondering which evening courses I’d sign up for to quell the symptoms when I heard the lights go on in Fionn’s room.
I heard the tiny thud of his feet hit floor and a hurried hand fumbling around with the door handle. It squeaked open and was followed by a short but excited run towards my room.
Suddenly this tired round face appeared in the door with a great big smile. He stood there for a moment in his ‘Fireman Sam’ pyjamas.
“Dad,” whispered Fionn loudly as he walked towards the bed.
“Get up. It’s your birthday.”
He jumped up beside me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.
“You’re 40 today, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” I said with mock disappointment.
“Does that mean you’re older than Grandad?” he asked.
“Not quite,” I said.
“Come on,” he said, tugging at my arm. Let’s go downstairs.
Fionn couldn’t figure out why someone would lie in bed awake on their birthday. In his mind, I should be up dancing around the kitchen, eating cake, getting presents and being treated like a king.
On your birthday you get things, goes the mindset of a three-year-old so why would you not want to receive.
Of course, I didn’t see it that way or at least I hadn’t before Fionn had come into the room and made me see the brighter side of life.
‘OK,’ he was saying, ‘maybe you haven’t hit all your targets or achieved all you wanted to achieve but hey look at all the things you have that are wonderful and we want to celebrate that with you. We also want some of your cake.’
When I got downstairs I was swamped with love. Luke, all one foot of him, ran over to me, and nearly knocked me over.
“Happy Burday Daddy,” he said in his inimitable matter of fact way.
Ciara, who was determined I wouldn’t be down on myself, gave me a great big hug... and a gift of a night away in Kilkenny. That hit the spot.
The rest of the day was a sea of texts, calls and Facebook best wishes.
For lunch I treated myself to a sample of Dylan McGrath’s culinary magic and when I had got my work done I went for a jar and a read of the paper in one of Dublin’s finest establishments, Neary’s.
I sat there reading about the goings on in the world enjoying my stout, bag of King crisps and more than anything, my time alone.
Ciara had taken a half day — she’s a diamond — so she could get the dinner ready. So there was no rush on me to leave.
I was coming to the end of the glass and was about to order a second when a sudden urge came over me. I wanted to get home.
Half an hour later, I was there. Everyone that I needed to be there was there. My parents, my brehon law wife and my children.
We sat around the table and got stuck into a big roast chicken. It was chaos.
Food was everywhere, drinks were being spilled, plates were screeching, fingers were getting burnt and that was just the adults but the craic was mighty.
When the birthday cake arrived, Luke and Fionn helped me blow out the candles — yes there were 40.
It was a moment; another one to add to the growing list of moments that these two boys have given me since they turned up in the world.
Life begins at 40 they say. It doesn’t. But hopefully it doesn’t end.
