My dad died a few weeks ago. I didn't go. I would have wanted to forgive him, if he wanted to be forgiven, but more likely he would not have been able to resist one last opportunity to be cruel. He really enjoyed being cruel. And he never, when I knew him, ever wanted forgiveness.
Today
siderea asked:Quick poll for people who identify as geeky, engineers, scientists, and/or programmers:
Please comment:
1) How did you first get into geek stuff?
2) At what age?
3) At that time, what was your gender presentation, and if different your sex?
4) Your current age.
I answered:
My dad brought home The Hobbit, when I was five. He read me the first few pages and then gave me the book. Followed by a lot more fantasy and science fiction, and Star Trek, and Star Wars when it came out -- we didn't often go to movie theaters, but for that we did. I was a girl. I had an older brother and a younger sister, and we were all smart, but I was the precocious reader, and I was the one he shared his interests with. I am 52 now.
I loved him. I'm still angry. It's complicated.
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