yesterday I was assembling a closet my girlfriend picked out for our appartment. And while putting in the back wall of the closet, I relived a memory of my dad teaching me how to build such things. Lessons he taught me about building and making while I was much younger and our relationship wasn’t so strained.

It was in that moment, that I was thankful for the few lessons my dad taught me, like working with a computer, and how it still helps me. He also never stopped me from being curious or wanting to find things out and looking for answers.

although I was brought up with a few christian elements, religion was never forced on me.

A question that still pops up every once in a while in my head is: how would our family situation have been, if my dad had known he was autistic. Would it have made any difference?