very early years...
My mother had several still births and during the early stages of labour was told that I too would not survive.
Outside of the small room on the labour ward my father was also told that my mother may not survive...
I was born (via C section) with my lungs full of blood weighing some ridiculously small amount. For reasons that will become clear my father didn't hang around too long.
I have only one memory of my father....
We lived in a bungalow, it had a small loft space which contained a wooden, pub style bench and a dartboard, the board must have been removed from its cabinet and placed on the ground so I could "chuck the arrows" while my father sat on the bench watching...and...erm...that's it, meet my real dad.
I've have inherited a few photos of my father and the only impression I can muster up is that he sported a pretty sexy 80's porn star style moustache as you can see
As I menioned, my father made a hasty exit which meant that my, now single, mum (and by default I) had some pretty tough times in what I will call my snot faced years...