We left the dock just before sunup. It was warm and the winds were mostly calm. Everything was quiet. All there was to hear were the the sound of an early morning summer breeze and the seawater moving through the back canals.
The reports from offshore said the seas were somewhere between 2’ and 3’ rollers, which is fine. Soon enough, with all aboard, we prepared to move slowly through the “No Wake” zone. I started the engines and one of the crew untied the ropes around the cleats.

I loved it this way. When it’s quiet, I mean. The only people around are the people heading offshore. The marina was empty and all was quiet. I loved the sound my engines made and the vibration that I felt beneath my feet while standing at the wheel. She was mine, alright. She was all mine.

There is nothing in the world more irretrievable than time. Nothing, whatsoever is as precious, as fleeting, and as ongoing as the turning of a clock.

She was little once. She was small enough to fit inside my arm. The world was big to her; much bigger than anything I could compare to. Then again, the world was new. Everything was new. Literally, everything was like something brand new and out of the box.

My little girl was my little girl then.
I remember

Every so often, I go on a website that calculates days between then and now. For example, the other day, I was trying to figure out how many times I’ve experienced the sunrise in my life.
The answer today would be 16,901. This means I’ve been around for that many mornings. That’s 2414 weeks and 3 days, or 46 years, 3 months, and 9 days to be exact, which is strange because the numbers seem odd to me.

I ever tell you about the time I was used as a patsy?
There are things that we do as kids that go down in the record book as the craziest thing of all times.
There are things that happen during our young lives that we swear we wonder how we got away with it. In the same regard, there are things that happened, which our parents never found out about —and this was a good thing.
God bless him as he rests, The Old Man never knew the story I am about to tell you. In fact, he went to his grave believing that what I’m about to tell you went differently. So going forward, the details of what I am about to tell you will have to be kept between you and me.

Deal?

I know you feel afraid sometimes. We all do.
I know that there is this thing inside you that want to protect because you don’t ever want it to hurt again or suffer or feel so vulnerable that something could come along to hurt you and in one swoop, this would punish you beyond repair.

Little kids are afraid of the dark. I have heard of children that shut the lightswitch in their bedroom and then they run to bed and try to get underneath the covers before the lights go out. I used to do this too. Continue reading →

I think of all things I miss, the one thing I miss is the thing I never really had. Now, of course, I remember what it was like to be young and I remember what it was like to have a father. Of course, we had tie together but my memory of The Old Man is vague and hazy.
I remember him teaching me how to throw a football. I remember him teaching me how to snap my wrist to get a better spiral. I never played much football though. I was never big, strong, or fast enough to play on the field. I did play in the peewee leagues though.
I played a little Continue reading →