Tag: Childhood
-
The move to Northampton
After my dad’s passing my mum was left with nothing, no house, no money, no career, kids to feed,…how would she cope? Oh no, wait, that’s not what happened at all: my dad’s insurance covered the remainder of the mortgage, paid for his own funeral and had enough left over to keep my mum going…
-
You’re man of the house now
Almost immediately after my dad’s passing there was no end of people coming up to me proclaiming: “you’re the man of the house now, Roy. Look after your mum”. I’m not exaggerating – everyone was approaching me and telling me the same thing, be it family, friends, strangers… Well, saying that is all well and…
-
The day I lost my Dad
If you’re looking for donor conceived stuff in this entry then you’ll be sorely disappointed. I want this post to concentrate entirely on the man I called Dad; the man who was and still is my Dad. No-one will ever replace him. We might not share DNA but he instilled in me the knowledge of…
-
Was I adopted?
My childhood was mostly spent wondering who I was. I’m pretty sure most people grow up pondering the same thing but for me there was always this one nagging, recurring thought which always went round-and-round in mind: the question of whether I was adopted. Here’s me! Paraded around in front of family, reading front page…
-
It started with a wan….memory!
My English teacher, Mrs Gyte, had always told us that a story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I’m writing a story of me so I should write about my beginning, right? Probably no; firstly I can’t remember being zero years old and secondly my beginning probably really starts before conception, and…