Here I was 57, semi-retired, gray haired, a bit of a belly, high blood pressure, out of shape, lonely. Should I? Would I seem ridiculous? An old perve...t? She could be my daughter, even grand-daughter. Oh now I'm being silly. She wouldn't even assume I might be looking to take advantage of her that way. I wasn't but how would it look. And what would Sarah say? I took a breath."I'd help you if you want." She looked up, still lifting food into her mouth. She chewed. Swallowed. Asked,"How?" I can't. "I'm a bladesmith because I like being a bladesmith," I asserted,extracting myself from Mom's arms and rising to my feet. "Dad didn'tforce me into doing it one bit. In fact, he told me over and over againwhen I first started that I wasn't under any obligation to keep doing itif I found something else I liked. But I do like it, and not becauseit's some fucking family tradition that has to be followed." Mom openedher mouth, probably to address my language, but closed it immediately."I love you. More

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