... going back to my roots (Odyssey - circa 1979?) in case you wondered why I am quoting a pyschologist below and talking about discovering who I am! See my last two posts.
My first year was thus: given up for adoption at 8 weeks. In a foster home. In another foster home. Adopted at 8 months.
My son said to me at the weekend "so Dad, you were an orphan." I never called myself that before. We talked and I was able to tell him that I now know who my birth mum is and that he has met her.
"Oh" he said!
Thanks J for bringing me into the world - I am truly thankful :o)
My life isn't big news in the global village in which we live, but it's important to me! And to my God. I will saying a little about my story this Sunday in church for Father's Day. Putting together some car chase DVD action for the big screens and base-busting tunes to back that up. There'll be a couple of motorbikes on stage too! No stereotyping here!!!!!!
So, bring on the weekend... football, breakfast with a friend, beers with a mate, landscape gardening, Hanwell carnival and some sun-baked chillin' too I hope. Love ya.
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