It was a shame his father didn’t appreciate him. Didn’t enjoy him as he should but how many parents were exactly the same? Too busy with their day-to-day lives to realise the most precious times would soon be a distant memory. Children were a gift but a transitory one. Mess things up and they were gone. Even if you did your job right you’d lose them in the end. Not quite so permanently but surely the measure of successful parenting was independent, happy offspring?
