I was born on the 15th December 1958 the middle child of three. After losing my father at a very young age; this was to set the pattern for the rest of my life. Losing was something that I would have to get used to. Today I still have some memory of my father, but in truth it’s all a little hazy. My mother through no fault of her own after that loss had no other alternative, then to return to her parent’s home with us children in tow. Our family unit were to spend only a few years there, until the wind of change came around once more. I still hold many happy memories, from my time there as a child. Happy memories are something that I hold in very short supply, and I have treasured them always. My mother was set to meet the man that was to become my stepfather, and we moved on once more to a new city with the promise of a new life. Hopefully it would be a happy one for all concerned, but it became a place for me that felt far more like a prison. One in which I would spend many days and