v's virtual vacuum
Tuesday, Jun. 09, 2009
memories
The neighbours knocked on our door one Saturday night and asked if I would get my dad out from in between the rubbish bins in their front garden.I was ten years old.
My mum went to get him and bring him home.
She and I moved out the next morning with a shopping trolley on wheels with our clothes in, my violin which was on loan from school and a frozen chicken which was all the food we had in the house.
My dad didn’t ever manage to shake his demons and killed himself through drink, drugs, smoking and gambling.
He was 47 and had had five heart attacks.
I still miss him, although finding out about his death was a huge relief at the time. It meant he couldn't embarass me any more.
