I was fatherless, living with my father I grew up with my father. I almost never heard about my mother. My father changed a lot for the worse when I just raised the topic of my mother. Of course, I was wondering who this woman is. But I did not want to quarrel with my father. We had a strange relationship with my father. He did an excellent job with his duties: to feed, clothe, put on shoes, help with school. But these were things that, in principle, the child does not particularly want. But as for something more, my father seemed to be gone - he stubbornly ignored me, did not pay attention to me, did not play with me. Once, when I was little, we went with friends to the river. Word for word, and as is usually the case with childhood accident and negligence, our raft sailed from the shore. Naturally, by accident ... How much fear and horror we experienced then - we cannot convey in words ... But this is not at all about that. ...