My Father

Its funny how you find out things that change you , and how you think of some one , that happend to me after my Mother died , but Im jumping ahead of myself .

When I was young I dont remember my Father ever giving me a hug , or a kiss , I suppose he did at some stage , but I cant remember it . I find that strange as I have a lot of memorys from when I was very young .

If I had to tell you about my father , I would say , he was a truck driver , drank a lot of beer , was drunk a lot but not a bad drunk . He loved my Mother ( he would not go to work until they had made up and kissed if the had a fight the night before ) He and my older brother had a bond , they were on the same wave . He used to call him " sailor " as he was in the sea scouts when he was young , and I ended up with " deckhand " I suppose as I was the younger one ( some 11 years younger ) than my brother .

My Father ( sorry , his name was Eric John Andrew Foster ) worked all of his life , he also went to the 2nd world war as a sapper , driving trucks and stuff , he had polio when he was young but it didnt stop him ( if you knew his mother you would know why ha ha , one tough lady ) . When my sister died they say it took it out of him and he was never the same , I dont think I ever saw the man that was my Father .

He had a stroke when I was about 12 yrs old , and could not move his left leg or arm , hard for a guy who worked all his life , he was the same until he died 7 yrs later , I was 19 .

I found a letter to my Mother from my Father , he was away working , and in it he asked after me and talked about me as his lovely son , and other stuff as well , I didnt even know he cared .