History of Sorts

This will be a blog post about my Dad because it is Father’s day.

There is so much I could say about my Dad and yet there is so little. For a long tome he had not been a part of my life, for 18 years to be precise. Especially the last years of those 18, I started to feel a hate for the man. That hate turned into bitterness, at that stage I realized that I had to do something about it. I had just got married and my wife deserved better then to have a bitter man.

I had found out where my Dad worked, which was in a restaurant in Valkenburg, the south east of the Netherlands which was only a few miles from where we lived. My wife and I, although she was still my girlfriend at the time, went to Valkenburg and sat down on…