Late February, some years back, distressed, uncertain and near a crossroads, the first and most defining moment of my life was about to transpire, I wandered out upon the long, granite jetty as it cut it's way easily into the sea. Perhaps a hundred meters or so the walk, on a calm day, was gentile and relaxing but today was quite the opposite amid this disquieted and frigid winters. Alone at it's end the waves gathered before me and broke quite reckless while the surrounding gusts hurled icy pellets abound. There it appears I came face to face with an ultimate choice, yet here a mere meter from total demise I found peace, a harmony -a solace.
That jetty is in Scituate at Lighthouse Road and to this day is the one place I seek when none others can quell. It is here also upon an outward tide my ashes are to be cast.
I was born and raised in a small town some 20 miles south of Boston in a time whan all America could be envious; Bobby Orr, Derek Sanderson, Bill Russell, Havlicheck, Yaz, Tony C; Larry "The Legend" Bird, oh man I could go on and on and... Fate, though, seemed intent to upset with it's perpetual intrusions and well, the story goes.
Blessed with 4 wonderful children, the Grooviest Grandson and a new Granddaughter the ebb and flow is the way of all tides. I am about a thousand miles from my beloved east coast and working my way home again.