Sure, I get the phone calls on Father’s Day and cards for my birthday but they, whether intentionally or not, now rob me of the same thing I selfish...y denied them as children: time. It’s a shame that those lost moments of abandoned fatherhood are something I will never be able to salvage. And then, of course, there was my poor Millie. You know, there was a time in my life that I believed I was a good husband just because I made plenty of money, blessed her with children and provided for her a. By the endof junior school my cousins and I had delightful heads of soft, golden,wavy hair down to our shoulders.Another little wrinkle was also sorted out in my final year at juniorschool. Every Easter, the final year juniors, went to an Easter camp.There we could indulge our hobbies or learn new ones. Emily decided to dopottery and while she was making a bowl she tried attaching a handle andspout to it and calling it a teapot. The handle fell off in the kiln andit emerged as a simple flattish. More

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