Deep brown eyes gaze at me, pleading that I’ll be quick. But I can’t go faster. The straps I’m winding round her are difficult.

This should be easy. Loop one strap around her front paw, reach beneath her neck for another strap, pull it round and fasten both straps with buckles to the main harness. Then Ciara will be ready for her walk. But our dog is not ready. The theory is easy, but fastening that harness is annoyingly complicated. I almost tip Ciara over getting that first loop round her paw. I fix that, then probe through the jungle of hair under her body for the long strap. I find it, pull it up and secure it. Done! Relief. Until I realise I’ve joined the neck straps to the body straps. That’s hopeless, far too tight. I got it wrong. Again. Because it’s complicated.

Many things in life are complicated. Some are trivial; some are serious.

For example, in my late teens I dated a great aunt. I really did. And I knew a young student whose father was older than her grandfather. Complicated? It was. But their situations are at the humorous end of the scale. Not at all humorous was the tragedy of the mum aged just 32 who died of cancer, leaving her 28-year-old husband to care for children both aged less than two years. His distress was immense. So was his fear about a wretchedly lonely and complicated future for him and his children.

Most of life is a mix of good and bad. Some things go well, others don’t. And the latter is often riddled with complications. I’ll describe three complicated areas, adding some ‘truths’ in hope they may be learning points.

Health

While Alison and I lived in the US, we tried attending a small home-based Bible study group. We were made welcome by about ten others. The Bible study went well enough. Then the leader said we’d pray for the needs of those present. Everyone should share their struggles. Ten of the twelve in the room talked about their hip or knee replacement surgery. Some were waiting for the operation; others were recovering from the operation. Alison and I were the only two never to have had or need hip or knee surgery. Clearly that wasn’t the group for us.

Bonnie, a work colleague, mentioned she’d recently been operated on for skin cancer. Several small incisions were done to remove damaged, cancerous skin. She seemed relaxed about the procedure. No wonder. It turned out that was the third time Bonnie had been treated for skin cancer. Soon she was planning to retire to one of America’s sun states. Would she be more careful? “Probably not,” she said. “I just love lying in the sun.”

There were lifestyle issues of weight and habits for all the people I’ve just mentioned. I won’t spell them out because ‘shaming’ people is hurtful and unproductive. However, I can list two truths.

First, almost everyone has health issues. My wife, Alison, studied health science at university. In a sociology of medicine class, she recalls the lecturer saying that most people think their health is poor while everyone else has good health. But, he said, most people don’t have good health. That’s the norm. And, since people now live longer, their older years will have an even more complicated health story. But they won’t be unique; almost everyone else will have illnesses too.

Second, it’s hard to maintain good health throughout our lives, but we’d probably be healthier when we’re old if we had looked after our minds and bodies when we were young. Philosophers describe that as our ‘moral responsibility to our future selves’. If we’d made different choices decades earlier, we’d be fitter and stronger in our older years. That’s not complicated to believe. It’s just hard for our younger selves to do.

Money

Imagine you open a bedroom drawer, and, hidden under clothes, you see a bundle of papers. You pull them out. They’re bills, and almost all are printed in red because these are final demand notices. Failure to pay will result in court action. That happened to Tammy. Husband Mike had been buying luxury goods, each time taking out credit but not keeping up with payments. “He handles all our finances. I had no idea we had any debt”, Tammy told me. That was a financial problem, but also a problem for their marriage. Complicated.

Others have faced equal or worse financial strain. Sol and Martha had bought and bought, and when a bank or company refused more credit they found alternative lending sources. Inside three years they racked up more than 20 separate debts. Now each bank, credit card company, and short term loan service was demanding payment. Some were far from polite. Debt collectors called Sol and Martha day and night. Representatives banged on their front door late in the evening, frightening their children. Bernie and Clara’s situation was similar, but matters had escalated. Now, not only did they have final demand letters, but legal notices appeared in local press announcing that their household goods would be sold to clear their debts unless payment was made within two weeks.

One of the members of the Bible study group I mentioned earlier didn’t just have hip troubles, he’d been so seriously in debt he’d gone bankrupt. But, he told the group, he was getting back on his feet with a new venture. As we left the meeting, he slipped his business card into my hand, saying he’d be happy to help me. I glanced at it. He was now a ‘Financial Advisor’. He was recovering from bankruptcy by becoming a financial advisor. If ‘complicated’ is not the right word for that, perhaps weird or even outrageous is. He did not become my advisor.

Kathleen was one of few who dealt with her spending. Her problem had been the ease of buying with her credit card. She had a generous credit limit, so she’d bought and bought and bought. She’d hand over her card, and give little or no thought to paying for her purchases later. When her credit card statement came, the amount she owed shocked Kathleen. Thankfully, instead of pretending there wasn’t a problem, she cut her credit card in two, refused all future cards, and paid off her debt month by month until she owed nothing.

Another two truths.

First, managing money is complicated, at least in part because credit is so easily available. It hasn’t always been like that. Most people in past generations lived in a largely cash society, and, though borrowing was possible, normally the weekly budget couldn’t stretch beyond the weekly income. That’s not how it is now. So we need to be careful.

Second, when finances are getting out of control, we need Kathleen’s ruthlessness. We cannot only be in love with the idea of being debt-free. We must be willing to sacrifice our desires in order to get there. Otherwise, only disaster lies ahead.

Parenting

Not many things in life are more complicated and more demanding than parenting. In the early years, you’re constantly exhausted as you struggle to get the baby to feed, to sleep, to stop crying, and all the time you wonder if what you’re doing is the right thing. So many uncertainties. So many worries. We’d heard stories of new parents who nudged their sleeping baby just to be sure the baby was alive. It seemed ridiculous. But we did it too (though only with our first). Parenthood was so complicated and concerning.

Looking back, we wonder how we survived some challenges. When our first two were four and nearly two years of age, they developed whooping cough. They had been vaccinated, but many others hadn’t so even vaccinated kids became infected. We hadn’t realised how serious whooping cough could be for babies and young children. We soon learned. Every time the whooping began we had to pick up the child, make sure they weren’t choking on their own sickness, and help them find another breath after every major whoop. To add to our own difficulty, Alison was more than eight months pregnant.

Late at night we’d go to bed. No sooner asleep, we’d waken because one of the children had begun whooping. I’d run first, Alison followed. After we’d tended to their needs, we’d get back to bed, but before long the whooping would begin with our other child. We got no consistent sleep. The children’s condition worsened, and one night we were wakened 17 times. Next morning our doctor decided enough was enough. This was dangerous for Alison and the baby she was carrying. He made phone calls, and told us to take the children that day to a hospital in the city where a special ward had been opened because of the whooping cough epidemic.

We walked into the ward, holding our children’s hands. We stopped, stunned by what we saw. The ward was large and old-fashioned with baby cots and small beds lining each wall. We saw nurses hurrying to toddlers who were whooping and running to pick up the babies. Someone told us later that not every baby survives whooping cough. We couldn’t turn around and go home. That would solve nothing, and physically we were spent. We had to leave our children there. It was heart-rending. We walked away with tears in our eyes.

Next morning Alison went into labour. That was a week before her due date, but babies don’t have calendars. Happily, a few hours later our third child, a little girl, was born in the local maternity hospital. We were thrilled, but her arrival meant the children already in the city hospital couldn’t come home. There had to be no danger of infecting our new-born before it would be safe to release them. So I drove 15 miles each day to the whooping cough ward to be with the children, while Alison stayed longer than usual in the maternity hospital because no-one was at home to give her support.

Nothing had changed by Christmas Day. Alison and I had agreed I should prioritise time with the children who were still very ill with whooping cough. So I headed into the city with bags of presents. Back in the maternity ward Alison sat on her bed with only our new daughter for company. Other mums and babies had family and friends celebrating Christmas with them. No-one visited Alison. People looked at her pityingly, wondering if she was single and abandoned with a baby. At 8.00 that evening the ward was quiet when, at last, I was able to get to the maternity hospital and spend time with Alison and our daughter. We were thankful for the care our older children were getting, and thrilled our new baby had been born safely. But it was a wretchedly difficult Christmas. Alison and baby came home soon after, but not yet the older children. They were five weeks in the whooping cough ward before doctors decided there was no danger from them to our new-born.

Even now, we wonder how we got through that time. Nothing – absolutely nothing – had prepared us mentally or physically for that experience. Parenting is no simple matter.

What was also complicated and stressful in the early years was the barrage of advice directed at us. People love to give their advice on parenting, but they never all give the same advice. Managing conflicting opinions, especially from parents and parents-in-law, can divide couples.

Anyone who’d raised children had strong opinions about feed times – some advised ‘make the baby wait until the next scheduled feed’ while others were ‘feed on demand’ advocates. Ideas were divided too on cloth nappies (diapers) versus disposables, how babies should be laid down for sleep, whether or not to wrap them up tight, how they should be carried, or dressed, or encouraged to stand instead of crawl. Some insisted babies should be weaned off breast feeding by six months; others told us to continue (with other foods too) until the baby was no longer interested. An aunt told Alison she shouldn’t talk too much to our baby son as it would be bad for him later (nonsense). During their earliest years, we chose not to give the children chocolate or sweets (candy). Family members didn’t like that, and told us our children were deprived. The issue of potty training saw the fiercest conflict. ‘Dangle the baby over the potty right from the beginning’ was one view; ‘no need to bother until the youngster can ask for the potty’ was the other. Neither side in that debate would compromise. It was their way or the wrong way.

With child number one, all that unsought advice unsettled us. We wanted to do things the right way, and conflicting advice bred uncertainty. Just having a baby was wearying, but we were being wearied even more trying to please others. After several months Alison and I had had enough. It was obvious there was not one ‘right way’ about most things. You could perfectly well look after babies using several methods. So, that day, we made a firm decision. We would not be driven by the opinions of others. Our children were our responsibility and, while of course we’d heed wise advice, we would do what we truly believed was best. We couldn’t be buffeted from side to side because someone thought their way was better.

The task of parenthood never ends. It just changes as the years go on. Alison and I don’t envy the modern issues of children and video games, social media, mobile phones. Today’s parents are ‘blessed’ with plenty of conflicting advice on all these complicated concerns.

Three truths.

First, after years of counselling people whose lives were still being negatively affected by their upbringing, I was left with the overwhelming certainty that the absolute priority for parents is to love their children unconditionally. To really love is, of course, to provide all the children really need, and also not to provide what is truly harmful for them. For us, that meant giving them a healthy diet, lots of exercise, and encouraging their interests without trying to direct their lives. And, above all, to tell them often they were loved entirely and always.

Second, be assured that children who are loved survive their parents very well. The complications of raising children breed fear of getting something wrong. But most of what worries us won’t ultimately matter. I’ve seen parents who didn’t dress their children too well, let them go places others wouldn’t, and weren’t great at keeping the home tidy. But the kids knew they were wanted and valued, and their parents’ strong love turned them into happy and mature adults.

Third, parenting may be complicated, but having children is a wonderful privilege, and a great blessing – including when they’ve grown up.

As I close, you’ll be relieved to know the great aunt I dated was not my great aunt. But Jenny really had been a great aunt from the age of nine. How could that be? Here’s how. Jenny was adopted by parents aged in their sixties (not possible now). They already had children in their forties (her sisters/brothers), who had children in their twenties (her nieces/nephews), who had children when Jenny was nine years old, making her a great aunt.

What about the student whose father was older than her grandfather? That makes sense when you know her father was older than her maternal grandfather. The student’s mother had married someone about 25 years her senior, a delightful man but older than her father. Hence their children, including the student, had a father older than their grandfather on their mother’s side.

Life is complicated? Yes, it’s complicated.