At any rate, these were the books that helped make up the backdrop of my childhood. Some of my earliest memories involve the big honking bookcases we had on the landing in North Dakota, against the wall of the dining and living rooms in New Mexico, lining the living room in Spain, and covering the halls and bedrooms in Maryland. I don't remember much about the books themselves, most of them being things I wasn't horribly interested in at the time, but I recognized the colors and the patterns in the names on the spines.
Eric started reading one of them yesterday, and he kept talking about this books. It didn't actually click for me that he was reading one of my dad's books until I saw the spine of the book he was reading. It was a bit of a jolt, really - I hadn't really seen the books since we left Maryland, and even then, it wasn't quite the same.
There are some days that I really wish he were here. I'd love to know what he thought of Eric. I think they would get along pretty well - Daddy would like him about as much as he could like any man who was boinking his only daughter. :) Daddy was big on science fiction - the books I remember are by Heinlein (Heinlin? I can never remember), Adams (a box set of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy that I've not been able to find again), Asimov (loooooved Asimov), and the like. I know that's part of the reason why Mom gave me the books - because she knew that Eric would like them.
The books that were part of the backdrop of my childhood are now on the shelves in my adult home. Our bookcases even look a lot like the ones we had then. It's kinda jarring, and kinda cool, all at once.
I miss him.