I’d been hoping that being with the kids would help and give me a new perspective, but it was just the opposite, I found myself feeling sorry for them having me for a father, for the person they saw and related to wasn’t the same as who I was inside, and this would gradually dawn on them when they were old enough to be able to judge the people around them in terms of personal qualities and character traits, rather than just how they appeared to them in ordinary interaction. I wasn’t good enough for them, but that wasn’t the sad part of it, the sad part was that they didn’t know.
