my father's daughter : part i
Used to be an investigative reporter. These days I think he is an editor. And he has always been a gambler. But we do not talk much. He does not like women. He considers communication with the feminine species mostly war or rescue. Or seduction. And anything outside of that sort of does not work for him.
This makes it difficult to talk to a daughter.
What he used to do instead is send me obituaries. He worked for a paper and when someone he knew died he stepped in and wrote the obit. They were as far as obtis go pretty good obits I guess. I do not read lots of obits — okay I do not read any obits — so am not sure. But they had lots of detail. Then he would mail them to me.
No letter. Just an obit in an envelope. About someone I never met or heard of. Who was dead.
to be continued