[A brief history of me in less than 200 words.]
It would be remiss, and perhaps cowardly of me, when writing and talking about my childhood; to not mention my real father. At that young age, I don’t remember thinking much about him too much; if at all. I’m sure I did wonder where he was, and what hadhappened to him, but to be brutally honest; I’m not sure – at that moment in my life – that he was an important person to me. Possibly I did have some memories of this man called “Dad.” The shadowy figure of a tall man, arguing with my Mum was there in the back of my mind, but not clearly enough for me to form his face. So he flirted around in my subconscious, throughout my childhood years. Never ever there in my life; but always somewhere as a faceless shadow. Little did I know then; that even as the useless Dad he had been, not knowing anything about him – and his absence - would affect me for many years to come.