I felt a stab of envy when I saw Jennifer Anniston’s recent tribute to her goddaughter, Coco, who who turned 17 last month, and is the daughter of Jen’s former Friends co-star Courtney Cox. Jen posted a beautiful throwback picture of herself, beaming, holding up Coco as a toddler. “Happy birthday my sweet Cocolicious!” she wrote. “Godmama loves you.”
I think Jen is a wonderful godmother, largely because she doesn't have children of her own, so she can devote lots of time and energy to her godchildren. I have a friend who is godmother to another friend's son and she dotes on him (and his sister) because she doesn't have a family herself. Her niece, nephew and godchildren are her family and she treats them as such.
My 7-year-old daughter has, by contrast, really missed out in the godparent department, and she hasn’t seen hers for several years. Whether this is because her godmother, an old school friend of mine, has children of her own and a business to run, or other priorities, is unclear but it does make me feel sad and at times angry for my daughter.
Both of my sons regularly see their godmothers, who live locally and are part of our day to day lives. We have an uncle and two family friends as godfathers and see two out of three quite regularly. I don’t feel resentful towards the godfather we don’t see, however, because I don’t have the same expectations of him from a friendship perspective.
My friendship with my daughter’s godmother, on the other hand, was built on a solid foundation of seven years at our all girls school, nights out in our local town and then, sharing our 20-something wilderness years in London. I thought all this would cement our bond for life, but I have had to readjust my expectations of her in recent years.
She is everything that a godmother should be – glamorous, fun and kind, but what does any of that matter when we never see her?
I tell my daughter that she has her aunt, my sister-in-law, who is also her godmother but that the other one lives quite far away (she doesn’t, she lives Surrey) and is very busy. But in reality it’s because her godmother and I have lost touch over the years, and unfortunately this has impacted on any relationship she may have wanted to have with my daughter.
I’m not sure what I expected when I asked her to be a godparent, but it’s hard not to take it personally when someone takes so little interest in your child. It’s not as though I’m in any way religious or have any expectation of spiritual guidance. In its historical context, the role of the godparent is that they will serve as proxies for the parents in the event anything should happen to them. But I don’t think many people give a fig about that sort of thing nowadays. It’s more of a token gesture, a sign that you want to keep that person in your life going forward, a sign of how much they mean to you.
Prince Charles has at least 30 godchildren (and probably as many staff to remember their birthdays), Elton John has ten (including Brooklyn and Romeo Beckham) while Liz Hurley’s son Damien has seven (including Elton John – are you keeping up with this?)
One time my daughter’s godmother was back home, visiting her parents who live nearby, and was going to come and see us but opted to go to the local shopping centre instead at the last minute. I don’t know what that says about her, our friendship, or her values, but she is clearly not invested in her goddaughter, is she?
I know another friend who felt similarly let down by a friend who is godparent to her middle child. She always forgets his birthdays and when she sees him, barely seems to acknowledge he's her godson. But surely godparents are supposed to make their godchildren feel a bit special, especially if they have multiple siblings? Somewhere along the way, that memo got a bit lost.
Why don’t I speak to my friend about it, you may well ask? I have no decent answer other than the fact I’m a total wimp when it comes to having those sorts of tricky, awkward, confrontational conversations and would rather suffer in silence instead, or at least try and forget about it. But the longer it goes on, the more it hurts. So I hope Courtney – and Coco – realise just how lucky they are to have a godparent that still cares.