
It’s a gift wrapped in a tragedy. Because you are an older Dad – past the half- century mark when the oldest was born – and that clock is ticking ticking ticking. Your time with them is limited. Each minute becomes an hour and each hour a day. You look at them sometimes, full of youth, playing and laughing, and you try to freeze it there – right there. Make the moment hang in the air, suspended. Devote it to memory. Lock it in place. Continue reading