From The Daddy Diaries: For Punky

There will come a time when your youngest child is no longer young. And you will look back and wonder where the time went.
You will see them, grown and maturing, graduated with a cap and gown (or at least, hopefully) and they will be on their own,—they’ll be on their way into an entirely new life without the need for parental consent or supervision.
Maybe they’ll live close or maybe they’ll move away. Perhaps they will be married. Maybe they will become parents. If not married or acting as parents, maybe our children will move forward and find their way along a path which they have chosen for themselves.
Eventually, a time will come when our children are no longer children. And no matter how we see them; no matter what the memories are of the day when they came into the world, alas, a day will come when our children will be fully grown.

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A Heartfelt Thought

Of all things I know, I know for sure that life is an eventual and an inevitable process. Life happens. Things begin and also, things end at a time when we least expect them to.
Life is always changing. This happens every day, even when we don’t want it to. Life is unavoidable. Trust me on this because sometimes we learn this lesson the hard way.

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Family

There is a road we travel, which we all travel. However the distance may not be the same. The distance between now and then or before and after is not always the same for everyone.
Either way, we all start from somewhere. Either way, we all travel down the road of life. Some travel longer than others but again, either way, some travel differently, some have shorter runs, and some have longer trips. This means there is a start, beginning, and there is an end to us all. However, what we do in-between is everything. This is the meat to the ribs of our life. This is our substance and our memory. This is the mark we leave behind and the fabric of our existence.

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The Seas

There was a little old boat in the rear, left corner of my backyard. The boat was aluminum, small with two bench seats across the beam, and while my memory of this is equally as small, I remember tiny glimpses of the little old boat.
I remember me, sitting in the boat with a life preserver that was perhaps bigger than my entire body. This is my first memory of her. We were fishing someplace near City Island.
I somehow caught a little starfish, if I’m not mistaken. This was before we moved out to The Island and away from my birthplace in Queens.

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