No memories of the good times.
No memories of him teaching me anything.
No memories of him encouraging me to learn new things.
Maybe I have repressed these memories? Maybe they never existed to begin with.
I can't seem to recall much of anything before my parents seperated in 1984.
I had a sandbox. We had a monkey tree. We had a pool. We had a trampoline. We had a jacuzzi. We had a play room. We had a long driveway that led out to a cul-de-sac which I rode my yellow bmx bike on everyday. Mom taught me how to ride it. I think...
I guess I can remember some stuff, but nothing relating to my Father.
Nothing good anyway.
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