My dad passed away three years ago. He began his career in the 60's and 70's, programming on punch cards. I remember him taking my brother and I to his cubicle at DEC in the 70's, letting us play a space invaders clone on a terminal. He taught me to program at 5 or 6 years old; I'll always remember my parents playing a simple number-guessing game I wrote in BASIC.

When my dad passed away, I went through his computer to help my mom figure out what to do with it. I say it was to help my mom, but really it was one last conversation about computers with my dad. I pored over the projects he was working on, and the books he had open on his desk. I remember thinking that this was the last language he'd use, the last modern framework he'd be working with. I remember feeling sad that no one would get to use this last project he was building.

So I see the old OS's popping up in the virtual machines described in the article, and all I can see is my dad. It starts to feel like grief, but then that feeling mixes with appreciation for everything my dad shared with me over the years. I didn't go into programming professionally out of college, but my dad's passing is pulling me back into it. I wish for one more day's conversation with him, to share what I'm doing these days.

We all love programming for many reasons, but at the end of the day it's really about how our work with computers and programming brings us into close circles with some of the best people we'll know.