Simon,

you said to me I wanted to have a relationship with you, you do have one, it may be a strained one but there it is.

I remember you being born, your mum being in the maternity hospital for longer than usual because of your jaundice, a little yellow baby with very dark hair. Maybe the first time you were called Chink? J

You came home & we were kept apart because of your health but when we could we’d push you around the estate to help you sleep.

I have few memories of that time, being a teen & desperate to get out of our little town.

Ganges boy: I left at fifteen to join the navy which is a whole story in of itself. The bit that concerns you; on my first leave home I came home to find my bedroom was now yours. All my toys gone, either given to you or just gone, my books, my music everything. For me to have a bed you had to sleep elsewhere.

That hurt some, especially the loss of my Hornby00 train set, I was told you’d ‘left it out in the rain.’

All I knew it was gone.

& I had to forgive that, which I believe I did, if I didn’t forget.

Can you imagine all of your childhood thrown or given away?

N said to me once: “E has had a different life to me & T, we’re not jealous, we recognise people grow up find new partners & are able to offer more to their kids.”

Which I heard clearly; I recognised early on your parents were different than the ones I had, mine were struggling with money, pain & shame.

I never returned there to live as there was no place for me.

For our relationship: I’ve had my moments of jealousy of you but I grew through them to understand the above: your parents were not my struggling parents.

There is more for me to tell you if you are interested, however I notice you tend not to respond when I write to you.

If you have any questions, as ever, I’m happy to respond. The answers you get may not be what you have been told or expect.

My relationship with you has always been based on kindness.