A few weeks back, I wrote a post for Mother’s Day. Well lookie here, it’s Father’s Day! If my mom gave me my fandom, my dad gave me something equally important–my words. My cohost Deb often says words are her “kung-fu”, and I’ve stolen that phrase more than once. I’ve always been a writer, even when I wasn’t doing much with it in the sunlight, so to speak.
One of my strongest memories of growing up is going through a particular closet in our basement and discovering a stack of old, faded spiral-bound notebooks. They were the old-fashioned collegey kind with the formal-looking covers. I’d never seen anything like them before. (I was pretty young.) But my fascination at the covers was nothing compared to my delight when I discovered what they held. They were my dad’s, and they were filled with poetry. I can still picture his artistic, slanted, flowing handwriting filling the pages with amazing and magical and touching words. (And a few delightfully doodley drawings.) Continue reading
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