This is a difficult one to read but it shows that he was loved, despite the bitterness (that was just to protect ourselves from further pain and vulnerability) and the lack of contact. We always wanted him in our life and it was so very difficult trying to understand why...now I do understand why, I wish we had known sooner but we did at least get to make peace and be with him to comfort him that everything was OK, thanks to Alison & Sheila.


History 2...

...Something else that is an important part of my history and the reason I have now found love in all the people around me and made my family from friends and I’m very happy with it. This is also something that brings my sister and I together, having both been through the same thing and both moved on to a more connected life. It is a reminder that from the heartache of his absence, for whatever reason, I/we have gained 2 adorable sisters, a fantastic step mum and have met family of ours recently that I never thought I would have the pleasure of ever meeting....he is the one who missed out.



I’m fed up of not knowing why my dad didn’t want me or love me, I’m his flesh and blood, an extension of himself. What was it about me that he didn’t like or was scared of? Does he ever remember me or wonder what I’m doing with myself? Would he not like the opportunity to have something in his life that he could feel proud about? What is his sense of humour like? What other family do I have? Does he ever tell people about me? What’s his favourite colour? What colour are his eyes? When did he start learning guitar? What were the major influences or greatest memories in his life? Did he love his mum? Would he reject me again?


What made you start drinking?


Between the ages of 13 and 16 I cried practically every night because when I saw other dads they loved their kids and looked after them, it made me believe I must have done something wrong for you to not want me or love me. You let me down and I felt like I was being punished! I decided I had to look after mum and the house and make everyone so proud that they WOULD want me and love me. Where were you?


You’ve made me into this broken quivering wreck you see before you!


I’m not looking for a dad; the word means nothing to me! It’s just something other people have if they’re lucky and, if they do, they need to hold onto every moment so tightly that they never let it go. I just need to fill your silhouette in and find some answers, I need to know who I am, where I came from and what being a Furley is all about because I really am a true Furley, there’s no hiding it!


Written in September 2009 (Age 27)