Father And Son, Part Number One

The title of this blog entry is pretty self-explanatory. This one is about my old man, and my relationship with him.

It was nothing short of a rollercoaster ride over the years. The ride, as most of you will know, was tragically cut short a few years ago.



I don't remember much from before I was 5, or much before I moved to Warrington. I do remember however, 6 moments of my life in Leeds.

1. Taking the pet dog to the vets to be put down. I remember going with the mother and my Dad's sister on what I'm sure was a green double decker bus.
2. Racing down the back alley in my buggy car (the orange and yellow one that everyone used to have as a kid) and coming to an abrupt halt at the garden gate at the bottom of the hill
3. Walking to Bramley centre and my idiot brother walking straight past as we went into Morrisons and going missing for half an hour
4. My overnight stay at Seacroft hospital to get my adenoids taken out. The mother stayed overnight too and after falling off a radiator in the main ward, I was put in her room with her
5. Falling down the stairs on the night we moved from Leeds to Warrington. I was stood at the top with mine and my brothers coats in my arms and the next thing I know, I'm at the bottom
6. This is the best memory of the lot. Driving from Leeds to Warrington in a yellow 7.5 tonner, sat on Dad's lap, driving down the M62. Of course I later realised he probably had his hands on the wheel the whole time. But at 5 years old, you're driving a big yellow truck, you don't notice things like that

That last one pretty much epitomises the memories I have of Dad. They were mostly fun. We enjoyed lots of the same stuff and always enjoyed our time together.

Six months after moving us all to Warrington for a new job, Dad left the Mother and us. I honestly don't remember things changing. One minute Dad was there every day, the next we got to see him every fortnight down in Northampton.

It wasn't too long before there was a new woman on the scene either. Amanda was her name. She was 10 years younger than Dad, probably still in her late twenties when I first met her.

Dad never let his responsibilities to us slip. We'd always be fed, clothed and I never felt we were living below the poverty line. My parents had spilt up and divorced, but I had fairly normal life apart from that and never wanted anything more than I had. I appreciated what I had too. Kids at high school wanted Ellesse and Helly Hansen jackets, along with Addidas and Nike trainers, Pod or Kickers shoes. I was quite happy with a jacket from the market and trainers and shoes from Wynsors.

Dad always went all out for my birthday and Xmas. He had a fair wage coming in, while Mum was on benefits, bringing up the pair of us. To be perfectly honest, having 2 separated, but happy parents was better than having 2 who were together, but unhappy. So think again when you decide it's best to stay together for the sake of your kids. It really isn't.

Dad had company cars to ferry us around in. From Citroen Xantias to Peugeot 405's, I was always impressed when Dad arrived to pick us up for a weekend in his new company car. Then there was the free train travel era....

Dad worked in Railfreight for a good few years and was based in a container yard just outside Birmingham city centre. As part of this job, he got free rail travel from himself and the brother and me. So on a Friday afternoon, he'd get the train from Brum to Warrington, walk from platform 3 and Bank Quay to platform 2, where he would take us off the mothers hands and have us on the next train back to Birmingham. First class all the way aswell.

It was going to see Dad on various modes of transport that got me interested in travelling. I love to see the scenery and would rather be stood on the top of the Pennines in the dead of winter than in a warm pub in some grotty part of low-lying Lancashire.

I have the road system and rail network between Warrington and Northampton etched into my memory bank. From bridges, to stations, to caravan parks along the route. In the car, I'd always keep an eye out for Villa Park on the way past Birmingham and on the train, I'd always look for the APT as you approached Crewe station. I'm a walking road map and proud of it. While you're following your sat nav into a lake, I'll be on the right track heading to my destination. As a true traveller, crap navs are the reason society can no longer find their way out of a paper bag. Maps add a requirement for thinking and problem solving. That's entertainment for me.

I got all that from the old man. He always had a road atlas of Great Britain etched into his memory bank aswell. We both had an excellent sense of direction and even if we didn't know exactly where we were, we could find our way to where we were going very easily.

My brother didn't share this love of travelling. He'd more often than not fall asleep and miss all the great sights. Dad challenged us one night on a journey to Northampton. We were somewhere on the outskirts of Northamptonshire and he first asked boxhead to direct him the right way home. Boxhead was out of his depth and soon had us going in circles. But then it was my time to shine, and shine I did.

Dad had followed the previous instructions to the letter and anyone else would have started to poo bricks. Not Dad, and certainly not I. In minutes, we were back on the right track and heading home. Once it was obvious where we were, he told me to stand down. I couldn't have been any older than 8 years old. I like to think I had made him proud that night.

As those who have read my blog will know, my troubles started around the time I started high school. Coincidently, this was when Dad offered both boxhead and me the chance to go and live with him.

We all know what my answer was to that question and I think Dad respected me a bit more for making the tough choice and not going after the money. Don't get me wrong, I know he was upset that I had said no. He obviously wanted to spend more time with us and I certainly wanted to spend more time with him. but moving wasn't what I wanted. The problems I had weren't evident at that point and I wanted to carry on with the life I was used to.

This was when the relationship started to act like a rollercoaster. not because of his offer, or because boxhead had buggered off, but because of my erratic behaviour. From that moment on, Dad would never again see me as a mentally stable human being.

This series of blogs will have numerous chapters, which will follow in the upcoming days. Please stay tuned