The Big 50

Two days ago it was my 50th birthday. Two years ago, my daughter and I were discussing what to do to celebrate this and she suggested a party. I didn't fancy this idea and instead I suggested that we took the boys on the trip of a lifetime. Three days in Latvia were my father was born, so that the kids could get a feel for their heritage. This is something which has always been very important to Kieron as he needs to feel a real sense of 'family'.

During this trip, I was planning to take the boys on a firing range, so that they could have a go at firing the guns that they normally only fire via Xbox games. I suppose I was hoping to instill a sense of responsibility and awareness of the power behind weaponry.

Stage two of the trip was to be a week in Russia, which is where my family on my father's side originated from: a little town called Grozny. Cossacks and snow came to mind...being driven in carriages and reliving the grandeur of a bygone age to which we are all, as a family, very closely linked. Wolves snapping at our heels as we flew over the snow and flagons of hot chocolate  a la Narnia.

In February 2009, I flew out to Riga in Latvia to retrace my fathers steps: the hospital where he was born and his first homes. I threw a snippet of his first hair cut into a frozen river and said goodbye, finally accepting that he had gone. Frequently phone calls home met with excited questions from Kieron, wanting to know everything I had done.

So we were due to be there this week. And weren't.