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These days I look at the photographs and I realise how old he looks , how the abuse he suffered at the hands of his stepfather scarred his soul as well as his skin.
I realise how bad the suffering he held inside must have been and why after searching so long for answers he finally gave up.
He was just 38 when he died, in my mind he is my father and I am his child yet I look at the photographs and I see a man barely older than my son looking back..
Abuse doesnt end when the beatings stop, its legacy carries on , my fathers suicide meant I lost my father and my children never got to know their grandfather.
RIP dad xxx
I remember him singing this song and it seems so fitting..
Cass, listening to that song and thinking of what you told us about your father made me cry. You have to talk at length, with people who have been abused, if you are ever going to understand them. I did that once with a very close friend and the pain he told me about has never left me!
I just hope that your father is looking down on you and realizing how much his daughter cared for him.