I suppose at some point we all look back on our lives and remember the people we knew, the times we had, good and bad, the places we lived and how the earlier years have shaped us into the people we have become.
I have done just that but decided to create a blog and share my memories with you. So please join me as I take you through the highs and lows of my life or as I have decided to call it "Garlo. The First 44 Years".
I was born at midday on 5th August 1967 in the bedroom of a terraced house in Middleton, Leeds.
My father was at his local pub helping them dispose of several pints of beer so Mum only had the midwife to help and support her. I know I should remember my weight as I know Mum told me on several occasions but I honestly cannot.
What I do remember her telling me was that I was apparently covered in lard.
Up until a couple of weeks before I was born, Mum had worked in a chip shop and luckily for her, her cravings during pregnancy had been fish and chips, hence the lard. Hopefully, with all that fat, it would have been an easy delivery.
Another thing I remember her telling me was that I was in fact a twin but he or she had died whilst still inside.
I don't really know what to think about that. I suppose it would have been nice to have a twin brother or sister but you can't miss what you never actually had.
I mentioned my father and this will be the final time I will state that he was that. From this point on, I will refer to him as Terry.
Terry was a vile and cruel man and it pleases me that I have no memory of him.
When he found out Mum was pregnant with twins, he tried to force her to take pills to terminate the pregnancy. He was a man that firmly believed a woman's place was in the home and that she was there to serve. If ever she questioned his authority, he would think nothing of giving her a good beating and showing her exactly where her place was.
If his dinner wasn't on the table as soon as he walked in from the pub, again it was a backhand to the face for Mum or a punch in the stomach. He would belittle her in front of family and friends and call her horrible names. Many a time Mum would have several bruises and black eyes at the hands of this tyrant. He was nothing but a bully.
Mum told me all about him when I was older and, though I did not need confirmation, so did other relatives. Mum never lied to me.
It eventually got to the point where Mum feared for her life and she knew she had to do something. About four months after I had been born, she packed what she could, collected my older sisters, Andrea and Jeanette, from school and along with me, she walked out of the house that had seen so many beatings and so much torture. She left him and she would never go back to him.
Two months later, Mum had moved in with her new boyfriend along with myself, Andrea and Jeanette.
His name was David and she had known him for quite a while. He had always been a shoulder for her to cry on whilst she was with Terry and I suppose there had been some spark there. Now that Terry was no longer in the picture, they could ignite it.
So here we were living as one big happy family with the man who would raise me as his son, the man who would be proud of me, the man I would have ups and downs with, the man I will always be proud to call my Dad.
My name is David and this is my life's story.
