Father’s Day is a poignant time for Jack*, a 48-year-old writer and one of the estimated 200,000 single fathers in the UK. ‘Every day is father’s day in a way,’ he says. ‘I was widowed suddenly five years ago when my wife collapsed and died without any warning, leaving me alone with our two sons, aged seven and eight, and five-year-old daughter. Life as I knew it fell off a cliff.’
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I woke on Tuesday at 4am and could hardly breathe. I was sweating (and, post-menopausal that I am, I never sweat) and racked with worry. I grabbed my hair, put my head in my hands, and said out loud, ‘What am I doing? What was I thinking?’