
I was 75 before I finally forgave my absent father. I don’t recommend leaving it that long. The resentment builds up and takes its toll. But I didn’t realise that until I was 45, on a social work course. At coffee one morning a younger chap casually remarked, “You’ve got a lot of anger in you.” “What me?” I exclaimed, “mild-mannered me?” I couldn’t believe it.