All in Family
It was Father’s Day a few years ago and the kids and I decided to do a tour of the Jersey shore. The plan was to start in Asbury Park, and then we would work our way along the coast to Belmar and then end up in Point Pleasant for a late lunch. In Asbury Park, as we walked the boardwalk, I got excited as we neared Convention Hall. I told the kids to follow me...
My nephew, Joe, who is in the Navy and stationed in San Diego (poor kid) called my sister and told her that he signed up to run the Avon (New Jersey) 5K in June and that she and Uncle Al (me) should run it as well.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I do not like to travel. Give me a week at the Jersey Shore, and I’m in. Anything that involves long car rides or, God forbid, putting me on an airplane, no thank you.
If you and your family celebrate Christmas, that celebration will look very different during the course of a lifetime. Even the family you celebrate the holiday with will most likely change.
Those of us who grew up in a household with only one income can relate to the story that follows.
Funny, but the post you are about to read is nothing like the first draft I wrote on this incident. In fact, it is the polar opposite of what I intended. Guess it really depends on which side of the glass you look through.
Let me explain
I am by no means a hoarder, but if I were to die tomorrow, there is a lot of stuff that my kids will have to deal with (i.e. throw away).
I loved getting together with family, seeing my Grandmother, my Aunts and Uncles and especially my cousins, but when it came to the food, I was terrible. I was an adopted loaf of white bread in a family of exquisite pastries.
It was not mine, but it may have been my son Danny’s first concert.
Although, after what we saw that night, I’m surprised he ever went back to see another.
You never know who you are going to run into on any given day (or night), or how that run in will turn out.
It is Monday night, and I am sitting here in New Jersey waiting for Hurricane Sandy to reach landfall.
