Quite a Trip

I just got back from Charleston, SC.  It was a great long-weekend trip.  I went down to see my first son who will be opening a deli tomorrow.   The project looks like a winner, and I am so happy for my son. It is kind of a momentous time for him. Like his Dad, he has “explored his options” for quite a few years before actually kicking in and making some choices.   I’m completely behind him on this project on so many levels.

My little family and I had a great time on the trip.  Despite the 60-degree water, my younger son had a fine time swimming in the surf.   I don’t know how or why he does it, but he does, and he loves it.   I love watching him, too, so alive in that mother water that birthed us all–all life forms on earth, as far as we know, anyway.

[googleMap name=”The Drop In Deli” description=”My son’s new restaurant on
Center St. In Folly Beach, SC” width=”300″ height=”300″ directions_to=”false”] +32.655752 -79.940776 [/googleMap]Driving back from Chucktown, with my wife and five-year-old son sleeping in the back seat, I suddenly became aware of an unsettling convergence of fact.  My older boy will be 28 in May.  I just had my 58th birthday.  Simple math and a slight nod to actuarial science indicates that I probably won’t see my younger son reach the age my older son will reach next month.  I mean, if I do, I will be 80, and what are the chances that I’ll be alive and functional at that age?

Elemental as these concerns seem to me, no one really understands them; in fact, their responses border on the ridiculous.  They say fatuous things like, “Little kids keep you young!”  Hey, if it were just that easy, huh?  I’d be all set.  According to their math, I’ll hit age 80, click my heels insouciantly, and snap my fingers in the face of my own mortality, perhaps for decades to come.

That seems like a lot of snapping, oh my bruvver.

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