A typical scene at the hospital, a woman screaming behind closed doors, a bulb flashing red above. All around the doors, people are sympathising with her and speaking of the pain she has to endure while giving birth. Everybody has yet to notice the young man, who with clammy hands is nervously pacing up and down the corridor, glancing often at those doors, probably as tense as the woman inside. A look of relief flashes across his face as the screaming melts into the sound of a crying baby. The doctor announces the birth of a daughter. This episode has been narrated to me countless times and my father’s behaviour characterised as “That of a child at Christmas”. That, my friends, was the start of an unbreakable bond, The Father – Daughter Relationship.
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