Foto: Kristin Lidell
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Jānis Lūciņš



I am a father. It is hard to believe; although I am nearly thirty, I sometimes still feel as a kid myself. I grew up as an only child. When I was eight, our family fell apart and so I was raised by my mother. The rest is like a copybook example: without knowing what a loving presence of a father means, I myself sometimes feel lost searching for it so I can give my best to my kids. And the main thing is the attention, the willingness to get closer to your closest relative — your child. In my case, it is three sons. Having grown up alone, without competition, I sometimes probably make a mistake by not being a role model to my sons but rather a brother, with whom they make tricks together. Children grow so fast and I cannot manage to find that ideal figure fast enough, so it becomes something in between — a father, a friend, a sack of presents.




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