last week,riding home from work on my motorbike,i experienced an astonishing amount of back-dated grief.i remembered a hollow and lonely christmas as a little boy.my dad reluctantly took me to a santa
grotto and i got a rubbish present,which broke when i got it home.
i was about 6-8.it summed up the lonely canyon that existed between us and our father.i started to cry and boy! did i cry.then,the nightmare,
my father brutally rejecting me and telling me to f*** off.
he died in 1990 and through this grief i felt love and regret.but then after softening and reaching out to him,he appeared again in my dreams to crush any idea i may have that he loved me.in real life,he never ,ever said.i say it 10 times a day to my kids.
when i got home i had the familiar routine of violent crying followed by violent sickness and accompanying memories of the sexual abuse i suffered as a boy.it wasnt dad that abused me,but he was a violent drunk womaniser.i will never be unfaithful to my beloved wife.
so much sadness,i miss him,he was a sod but i wish he could meet my wife and beautiful children.
ty for your time
ade xxxxxx