Steve Glaveski
Published in

Steve Glaveski

Reflections on Losing My Dad

He took his position in front of a brick wall in the backyard.

The two pot plants either side of him became our goal, much to the dismay of my mum.

And I proceeded to attempt to kick one passed him.

I was thirteen years old.

He was 51 at the time, and he had spent the majority of his adult life as a laborer, working on assembly lines and…

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