poem


Dad 11

I don’t need to write down how much of a fab dad MadDad is to the boys, as they experience it everyday. They are so lucky to have such a fantastic male roll model in their lives, instead I am going to tell you a little about my Dad.

My Dad

Does the passing of time without someone in your life make them them become larger than life? I often wonder if I look back on my time with Dad with rose tinted glasses, but then I realise that no, this was just the man he was.

My Dad was a mans, man. He was an engineer and worked in the ship yards, He was a strong man with wide fingers and muck permanently under his nails. The lines in his hands highlighted by the oil and grime put there from years of hard graft.