I`ve just seen two pictures of my Dad as a little boy. It`s something I`ve often longed to see, so it was a great thrill and experience to do just that recently.
I feel far more “related” to that side of my family history than I do to my mother`s side, yet, it`s something I know so little about. My Dad never talked about his family much, maybe he didn`t get the chance because on the occasions when I can remember him starting to say something, Mum would then interrupt with something about her family and go off from there.
How I wish that I`d got my Dad to talk about his family and childhood. Not that it was probably very exciting, but just to hear the everyday things that he`d done, to find out what he`d been like as a boy.
Why do we always realise things too late, to do anything about it?