Vale The Von

Is it just me or does everyone wonder how scarred their children will be by their childhood?

Golf legend Norman Von Nida died at the weekend, sparking an outpouring of generous tributes to his talent and generosity.

Yesterday, his estranged son Dennis went on the Alan Jones radio show to launch a stinging attack, claiming his father drove his first wife to death. He says his father lived a lavish lifestyle, yet allowed Dennis, his mother and sister to languish in a Brisbane boarding house.

Family and friends of Von Nida have now intervened, saying the golf maestro was a kind man who loved his family.

Who knows what the truth is, probably somewhere in the middle.

I am constantly amazed at how siblings who grew up in the same house can have totally different recollections of childhood.

I guess though, no matter how bad your childhood was, it’s over and you might as well move on.

Yesterday, I heard a story about a friend of mine, a gorgeous, generous, beautiful, in her forties, with extraordinarily loving parents, flew to Perth last week to confront them about her childhood.

Apparently she was forced to stand in front of the class aged nine – and she failed some horrible spelling test, for which she was smacked. Whatever!

And no matter how angry you might be with your parents, one day they’ll be dead and I’m pretty sure you’ll miss them when they’re gone.