My Mother Was French Protestant, And My

The Years After Graduation Hardened Me Into Someone Quite Different From The Strutting Graduate Who Left Campus That Day Headed For New York City, Ready To Offer The World His Talent. The World, I Discovered. Was Not All That Interested.

The Truth Is, Part Of Me Is Every Age. I’m A Three-year-old, I’m A Five-year-old, I’m A Thirty-seven-year-old, I’m A Fifty-year-old. I’ve Been Through All Of Them, And I Know What It’s Like. I Delight In Being A Child When It’s Appropriate To Be A Child. I Delight In Being A Wise Old Man When It’s Appropriate To Be A Wise Old Man. Think Of All I Can Be! I Am Every Age, Up To My Own.

By Now, The Morning Sun Was Just Over The Horizon And It Came At Me Like A Sidearm Pitch Between The Houses Of My Old Neighborhood. I Shielded My Eyes. This Being Early October, There Were Already Piles Of Leaves Pushed Against The Curb—more Leaves Than I Remembered From My Autumns Here—andless Open Space In The Sky. I Think What You Notice Most When You Haven’t Been Home In A While Is How Much The Trees Have Grown Around Your Memories.

Every Life Has One True Love Snapshot.

Sometimes, Kids Want You To Hurt The Way They Hurt.