TV Lessons Come In Many Forms

You often hear of the raised emotionality of women after giving birth. While hormones and other biological things I’m not smart enough (or too lazy) to understand play a part, it could also be argued that having kids---biology or not---just changes your sensitivities. Despite unfair assertions from my junior high gym coach, I do not have estrogen streaming through my body parts. However, like my wife Jess, I’ve found certain things ignite a wave of emotions that would have once elicited indifference or sarcasm. This was never more evident while catching up with “Sons of Anarchy” during a “the kids are asleep, let’s jam in as many episodes on DVD as humanly possible” marathon. 

Before going any further, it’s fair to let you know that I’m going to spoil a TV show, so you may not want to read much more if you:

• Are a “Sons of Anarchy” fan who hasn’t seen Season 3
• Plan on watching “Sons of Anarchy” at some point 
• Don’t want to read a story about loving your kids and a fictional outlaw motorcycle gang led by a man who is way too pretty to effectively lead any outlaw motorcycle gang, fictional or otherwise. 

So for those of you who don’t plan on watching the show, here’s the situation. Jax, the aforementioned pretty-boy, is a new father. His 10-month old son, Abel, is kidnapped as a form of revenge against the motor cycle club. After a really long series of events not worth mentioning, Jax learns Abel is Ireland. So he and almost the entire club board a local cargo plane and arrive in Ireland (really, don’t ask), where he learns that Abel was sent to an orphanage and adopted (God dammit, I swear this is a good show even though it sounds lame as could be). 

After getting a lead on the whereabouts of the happy, well-to-do couple who adopt Abel, Jax tracks them to an open market. He sees them and is ready to pounce and reclaim his child. One problem: Jax’s conscience goes from a whisper to a roar. He considers the life he is leading and how that will impact his kid. He sells illegal guns, consorts with horrible people and he is a murderer. Jax would like to walk away from this life, but knows that will never happen. At least not anytime soon.  

From afar, it’s clear the couple is already in love with Jax’s boy. Abel looks happy, too. In this family, he won’t be subjected to violence, gunshots, seedy characters and the absence of peace that Jax voluntarily immerses himself in. Abel will be taken care of and sheltered from bad. He won’t have to watch his father being dragged out of the living room by police. Nor, in all likelihood, will he ever come home to find his father murdered. The couple represents comfort and calm.  

They stroll closer to Jax, vacant of the possibility they may be mere seconds from the most horrific moment of their lives. As they approach, Abel looks Jax in the eyes and smiles the way any baby who hasn’t seen his Daddy in a while would.  Jax is close enough kiss the child on the cheek and strong enough to take him with ease. Instead, he stands motionlessly, purses his lips, takes one last look at his boy and lets him pass slowly away.  He gets ten months. That’s it. Jax trades off ever getting to know his child to offer him a better life. 

Here is a dad—albeit fictional---who does bad things to people. And he knows he does bad things. The only pure patch in his life, the only thing keeping him in touch with his own humanity is that little boy. He loves his son so much, yearns so badly for his child’s well-being that he will let complete strangers care for Abel in a way that he knows he never can. 

A year ago this scene would have touched me. Probably would have made me think. But it wouldn’t have gotten inside me. But two weeks ago, watching on my couch and expecting drug deals and gun fights, there I was a mess.  Not a tear trickling down the side of my check, but shaking  and crying to the point that Jess was concerned.  The scene rocked me to my core. I imagined those soul-saving smiles Jackson and Logan flash when I come home from work and how it would feel to see other people taking my place. Knowing that in a short time, the memory of me would be erased from their minds for good. But worse, knowing that I wasn’t good enough for them. What a hell. 

I thought about what I would do to protect my kids from danger. I'm not kidding even a little when I tell you I’d jump in front of a bus, even kill another person if I had to. But to save your kid…from yourself?  It just leveled me. 

Perhaps a child’s greatest blessing is forcing you to examine the impact of the shitty things you do. For all the books, the warm and fuzzy news reports and daily Facebook links about the wondrous miracle that children are, a fictional murderous biker named Jax Teller offered the clearest example of the most fundamental parental truth: They are more important than you.  They change you, these kids.