My father, Richard Field, is locked away from us now, and society as well. I have no desire to see him ever again. I hate him. I…he was never a loving person. I went to Mother when I needed something growing up. Though she listened to my problems well into my teens, she often had no real solution to offer. “I don’t know what you’re going to do, Vera,” was her usual answer. I guess it’s just not in her make-up to provide any kind of guidance or moral support. She devoted more time to her friends and her weekly bridge game than she did to me, or to my father from what I could tell.