The young boy sat on his father's knee, enjoying the closeness and attention of his father. "Son, I'm leaving and I'm not coming back." was the phrase the boys father kept repeating. Each time with more anguish and heart ache. The boy responded with his own repeating phrase "Yes dad, but when are you coming back."
It was a day I well remember because it was the day my Dad broke my heart. It was the day he left my world, broke my world, it was a miseralbe day that reached far far into my life and sometimes reaches me now.
I was helpless to resist, I was only a boy, it didn't matter that I didn't want to live with my mum, it didn't matter that I wanted to live with my dad. And so misery took many differnt shapes but the most common was anger. Anger at everyone, anger at the world and most of all at God. I fought a lot, I hated a lot and so my world became a darkening world. When I looked out on the world I saw only hate, anger and a sense of hoplessness weighed down on my mind and heart. It was at these darkest times when the words of a ghost could be heard saying "Son, I'm leaving..."