<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=474169" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>when I met my father</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I met my Father <br>There are many cargo ships in the bay of Cascais this Monday afternoon<br>and I thought of my father; he too had been a seafarer.<br>Last time I saw him I was eighteen, sat on a bus going into town, he saw<br>me but I looked out of the widow pretending I didn´t see him.<br>When he looked straight ahead again his face was impassive but I saw<br>tears trickling down his chin. When the bus stopped I hurriedly left, <br>this old fool I thought, most likely drunk. Rain cooled my flushed face.<br>During the war years of 1940-45 my father sailed on ship delivering <br>war material to Britain and Russia and he had seen ships being hit by<br>torpedoes and men drown in the cold Arctic sea. When he came home <br>He couldn´t settle for a normal life and back then there was no help <br>for war damaged seamen, and many of them became drifters and only<br>slowly died. My father was a drunk I had seen him before sharing <br>a bottle of booze with his mates in the park, and I despised him and them.<br>No, my father never played a role in my upbringing and my childhood <br>was needlessly hard because of him. But today, sitting on the terrace<br>overlooking the blue bay, I remember his tears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=474169" data-title="When I met my father de Oskar Hansen" data-description="When I met my Father There are many cargo ships in the bay of Cascais this Monday afternoon and I thought of my father; he too had been a seafarer. Last time I saw him I was eighteen, sat on a bus going into town, he saw me but I looked out of th..."></div> </div> </div>

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