A Gift From My Father

My father and mother were divorced when I was nine, and my father was awarded custody of my brothers and me. In the 1940s divorce was frowned on and there was a stigma associated with it. Children of divorced couples usually ended up in boarding school. That is what happened to my brothers and me. My younger brother and I spent nine years, first in a convent and then in a secondary college, as boarders.

There is a lot written these days about the effects of divorce on children – especially young children – and the jury still seems to be out on whether or not the overall effect is negative. Speaking from experience, divorce is definitely detrimental for the child. It is difficult to draw general conclusions about what damage is done, and perhaps that is why the “experts” can’t make up their minds. But there is undoubtedly a sense of rejection and a retreat from reality - a kid’s mind is often a much safer place to live in than having to face the reality of his or her new environment.

My father was a railway man. Looking back, I realise he had three loves in his life – my two brothers and me. He also liked Ben Chifley, a beer and a smoke. His mother died giving birth to her eleventh child when he was four, and four years later his father was killed in an accident. So he knew all about what it’s like trying to make it on your own.

As a result of being orphaned so young he was only given a primary education and he learnt, from experience, that you couldn’t generally get very far in this world without a good education. Many times I heard him say that a good education was essential and that his three boys were going to be properly educated, so that they would get the opportunities he had missed out on. That was the positive thing that came out of our time in boarding school. We did get a good education.

He gave us all that good start in life, which he saw as important. I don’t know how he managed it financially as he was only a labourer and boarding school fees weren’t cheap, even in those days. Also, he always seemed to be there when needed, quite often with a little gift and always with words of encouragement. He showed that he cared often and in many different ways. His gift to each of us was love. And love is a powerful balm. It can heal all wounds, it can drive out fear and it can convince you that, despite all the indications to the contrary, you really are a person of value.

Quite often these days it seems to be politically correct to qualify what you say about fathers, even on Fathers’ Day, because some people have had abusive fathers. I find it difficult not to get a little bit angry whenever I hear someone impugn fathers generally because of the sins of a minority.

The reality is that if you get one loving parent you are indeed fortunate. If you get two, you are specially blessed.

B.H.

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All I Need To Know About Life  I Learned From My Teddy Bear ♥ Hugs are even better than chocolate  ♥ There’s no such thing as too many kisses.  ♥ One good cuddle can change a grumpy day. ♥ Love is supposed to wear out your fur a little.  ♥ It’s okay to let your inside stuffing show now and then. ♥ Listening is as important as talking. ♥ Someone’s got to keep their eyes open all the time. ♥ It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. ♥ Everyone needs someone to hold onto. Contributed by E.S.