For a long time, I kept their mailings. I don’t do that anymore, now that they communicate by email or text instead. But faithful to the appointment, my godchildren are keen to perpetuate the ritual: they take advantage of the holidays to give me a sign of life – I am aware that they have a thousand other things to do. Ten days before Christmas, their card should not be long any longer. Virtual or paper version, it always pleases me.
It is that between godson and godfather, we do not see each other every day but only from time to time. At the beginning, we met at a few feasts like the profession of faith. Sometimes, we received the godson for a week or two, during the holidays. Then the constraints of the profession and of family life took over, taking care of loosening the bonds. For a long time, the constraints came from your side. Then your godson began his adult life and found himself monopolized and less available.
Obviously, we don’t forget each other. Over the years we’ve been checking in on each other, so we exchanged Christmas cards and New Years greetings, and even a few pictures. When we see each other today, affection is expressed without artifice. We guess it is reciprocal and sure. However, we keep this feeling of not knowing each other as much as we would have liked. A doubt arises even when it comes to specifying the date of the anniversary. The year, no problem. The month, we locate it. But the day, ouch! We feel torn between shame and resignation.
This year, two other circumstances have exceptionally made it possible to renew ties. A wedding, first, at the end of last summer. A wedding, what a good idea, especially when the hero of the announced party is a godson! Then a few months apart, another godson also appears to announce a professional turning point, moving to the key. Not at the end of the world but a few hours by plane all the same.
These opportunities to reconnect, of course, are happy. But how can we not find them also really too rare? Like some dads who have not seen the time go by and blame themselves for not having watched their children sufficiently grow up, the godfather wonders. Was there any other way? Should we have given other opportunities to meet? Create more regular meetings?
Obviously, it is impossible to start from scratch. This kind of game is not replayed. But why dwell on remorse? It’s never too late. The godson that I am once experienced it with his own godfather: a long parenthesis of several years had preceded our reunion – I was an adult and already a young father when we started to see each other again. This marriage and this move therefore invite us, my godchildren and I, to open and write in our turn a new page of our relations. To give us a second chance together. Like a nice Christmas present.