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In a few months my son will be nine years old. Wow, nine years old- one more year and he'll be in double digits. Echoes of the old cliche "It seems like only yesterday" reverberates in my head. And for all of you out there with kids, especially that category of kids who grow up too fast, well, you'll relate to my story. For those without kids, I think this will give you something to think about.

I belong, in my opinion, to that group of sons who grew up without much of a relationship with their father. The most vivid memory I have of the both of us sharing a father-son moment was the day he brought home my first big boy' bicycle when I was ten. He took it out of the car, jumped on it, made a few circles around the yard, and then gave it to me to ride. That was the first and last time I saw my Dad ride my or any other bike. Years later, the relationship between my father and his four children was such that when we heard his car turn into the driveway each evening, there would be a mad scramble to all of our rooms. We would listen for him to eat in the kitchen, and then retire to his room. Then we would all emerge.

I turned thirty eight years old this week. I cannot remember a single instance in my childhood where my father hugged me and told me that he loved me. Did he love me at all you may be thinking? Of course he did. I have absolutely no doubt. Even from the start of high school, when our family owned business began to prosper, I was clothed, fed and sheltered better than most. Straight up to university, I got the finest education money can buy. When I got my license he bought me a car. What more could I want?

Fast forward. When my son was born I was almost there to witness his birth. I say almost there' because despite my repeated requests to stay well north of birthing ground zero, the doctor insisted that a little peek would not hurt. If it wasn't for my mother-in-law leading me to the bathroom, I would have been passed out on the floor. When I held him for the first time- and I know that you're expecting me to say that I made a promise to him that I'd be the best father I could be, but no I didn't- I simply marveled at wonder of life, this tiny human being, with his ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes who we waited for, for nine months, to come into the world.

Fast forward again. When my son was about five, my wife and I got involved with business that began to demand a lot of our time away from home. Suffice to say for now, that it was a network marketing

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