Daisy’s up the duff

I suppose, as an absent father, sooner or later one of your daughters is going to pick up the phone and make that call. This evening, I learned that I am likely to become a grandfather not long after my 47th birthday, rather sooner than I had anticipated.
I’m very proud of Daisy for having the guts to call me and give me the news. It’s not as if her life is really in a good position for sprogging; she’s only 18 and still finishing her college course, living at home and/or with her boyfriend who’s living at home. But, boyfriend and his family are supportive and her mother hasn’t given her too much grief, so at least she can start to come to terms with pregnancy (damn! there’s that word) and start planning for the future without having to deal with over-emotive families. It’s not going to be easy for her and it’s hard to know just how much I can do 500 miles from the action.
To be frank, it’s her life and she’s been wanting to make all the decisions since she was twelve, and decisions and choices have consequences; we’re all wiser after the events of our own choosing. That’s not to say that I don’t adore her or want the best for her or want to be with her and hold her hand and hug her and tell her that’s she’s the world to me and always has been, it just means that no parent can live their lives vicariously through their children and expect them to make the choices they would have made with the benefit of 30 years of hindsight; life just isn’t like that.
After all, there are worse mistakes to make when you’re eighteen than falling pregnant, and that in itself isn’t a disaster. Honest.
More rational observation, comment and news will doubtless follow.