I am a child of yesterday's world, and all its tomorrows are my children
My mother and father loved me, life, and the world around in equal measure
Their hand at my side taught me to do the same
I was only eight - the same age as my little Miranda -
when my father left me, life, and the world around us with no fanfare
He was not a man for fanfare, I suppose
It was 10 years later that I stood, drenched with sweat and triumph
at the summit of Mt Quandary (no joke!)
and shouted my father's name in anger
In anger?
Yes. Not that he had left me to grow unguided
But that now, driven by the lessons he had woven into my being
I had grown, and could not show him what I had become.
(2005)