01 February 1976
My father died when I was only twelve years old. He had been ill for quite some time with cancer and I remember taking care of him each day when I got home from school. I was all he had during that time as my mother worked nights in the hospital and my brother was always at the pub. When people asked me about him I would always tell the story of how he sat us down one day and told us about the argument he got into with a German man he encountered one day whilst walking along the ...read more
