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October 23, 2019
I am going to write about dad. Whenever I have written about the old man in the past I have tended to be critical, dismissive of feelings because... to be perfectly honest, I didnít have many, and those I did have were not deep. He was a decent man in the ways that matter. He was kind, patient, not given to anger or the accepted norms of male behaviour in his time. Mum loved that about him; his fundamental dullness, not so much. That gave her red rages, and he did not know what to do with them, or her.