When I was four years old, my mother took a momentous decision. She decided that she and her children would be better off as a one-parent family. She asked my father could they go their separate ways.

It was 1971. A single mother in Ireland in 1971 was as rare as? Well, you get the picture.

Or maybe not. This extraordinary woman now found herself having to deal with bills. With mortgages. With threats to repossess her house, ‘kindly’ social workers offered a flat in High Rise heaven. That’s Ballymun for our younger readers.

My mother declined. She liked her own house with the huge living room where a four-year-old could find his feet and a garden which overlooked a farm.

I was four years old. She was my rock. There was nothing I wanted for. There was nothing my siblings wanted for. Did I miss a strong male influence? No, I had four older brothers. I had uncles who loved me. There were male teachers in my school. All the boxes were ticked.

My closest friends never questioned the fact. We got on with it.

Then the 80s arrived. A new power was flexing its muscles. It had a wonderful name. Family Solidarity. What idealists they were. Families were mammy, daddy and as many kids mammy could physically bear. There were thing they didn’t like. Condoms were one. Divorce was another. During the 1987 divorce referendum they had a lovely poster:

“Divorce kills love”

Indeed. I was an innocent then but even I knew love was well and truly dead when two adults began thinking divorce. Theirs was a narrow nasty view of society. Their ideal had no place for families like mine. They smiled but I knew they saw my mother as being somewhat less than them. I was there to be pitied.

Thankfully society moved on and we value and understand families come in all shapes and sizes.

Step forward Bishop Kevin Doran. Speaking to the Iona Institute and addressing the issue of same-sex marriage (he’s not a fan), the good bishop came out with this cracker:

“Societies rely on families built on strong marriages to produce what they need but cannot secure: healthy, upright children who become conscientious citizens.”

Sweeping generalisation alert!

What is he trying to get at here? Some strange medieval theological theory that unhealthy kids obviously mirror some moral fault of their parents? God knows where that leaves me and my wobble.

My mother brought me up with a stronge sense of right and wrong. I believe I am a conscientious citizen. I care for others. I love my family. I look out for my friends. I do everything that the long-haired lover from Nazareth would want me to do.

Bishop Doran should really know better. But he’s a bishop and I’m only the child of a single parent family.