You may not know that after 14 years of having the hump and being incommunicado with my father I decided to let bygones be bygones and get in contact. For good reason I might add. I'm almost proud to say that when I saw a counsellor for a few sessions after my divorce she sat back in her chair and announced "Everyone says they have a dysfunctional family but bloody hell Marta, you really DO have a dysfunctional family."
It's been great to let go and find out he's not a homicidal maniac after all. I first detected he may actually be somewhere close to a normal parent when I heard on the family grapevine he was thinking of buying a place in Spain or Cyprus. My brother and he are going to help me move some stuff in to the Bournemouth flat and to build furniture, put up shelves, etc. Wow - family life!
It's funny how I forgot what he sounded like. I had thought he was much more English than mum but he in fact has a very dodgy entertaining foreign accent and speaks considering every word. He also can be quite funny - when I met him the first time he accidentally drank my boyfriend at the time's wine and laughed "Oh dear. Excuse my wandering hands, won't you!" As an adult getting to know him is a real experience and today I discovered he has an utter contempt for Tony Blair. If his 21 year old car hadn't failed its MOT he was going to paint 'Down with Blair' and drive it around Aylesbury for the last few weeks. I admire the sentiment but maybe he's not that close to being a normal parent after all. Anyway no wonder I'm barking mad.
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