If you could have one question answered with absolute truth what would that question be?
When you have gone through a mental breakdown, one if the uglier aspects is that you spend a great deal of time rummaging through your own head.
It’s not always pretty what you find there, but you search and search looking for that holy grail, that will give you the answer,and end your pain.
Sorry, in my case that didn’t happen, though when more lucidity approached I did have questions.
To answer this question I have to revisit the past, which is now hazy the finer points lost in time.
My parents seperated when I was three my brother a baby, my father basically vanished from our lives.
This was in the late sixties and attitudes towards single women were different, and times were incredibley hard, I have to say we had a pretty good childhood, and my mother worked very hard as we had no financial support, we survived.
My grandfather bless him tried to make amends and always visited and on occasion gave us money(he was always very embarrassed about his son and to give him credit he never made excuses for him).
My mother was pretty cool and never condemned him to us, but it was always with us this stigma if being without a father, some would even argue a bad one was better than none at all, I don’t really buy into that.
Anyway because of my grandfather our father always knew where we were, in fact right up until I was in my mid twenties.
Even though he had remarried and had three more children he still never made contact.
One of my most enduring memories, was my grandfather got him to agree to visit, we were so scared and excited, we dressed up in our Sunday best and waited and waited, our grandfather finally arriving alone, he just looked crushed, he hadn’t turned up there either.
For the first time in my life I felt the pain of disappointment that has never really left, when I look back I see that girl in a white dress with ribbons in her hair clutching a homemade card.
Life goes on mum was great, but my brother and myself never really talked about it until years later when mum died, we came to the conclusion that was his loss, no anger or bitterness, we had lost the parent that really mattered.
To answer the question, my question would be:
Why didn’t you show up that day?
What would your question be?