I long to breathe in my son’s boundless energy – his youth and exuberance about damn near everything, while I still have the chance.
I long to walk in England and get all giddy on Baker’s Street, to explore the pubs and streets of Ireland, while I still have the chance.
Let me harass the Internal Revenue Service and student loan folks as they have harassed me (crank calls perhaps), while I still have the chance.
The cold shark cage beckons, stories cry out to be written like mewling kittens, the return to alcohol awaits, while I still have the chance.
Most of all, let me learn how to be comfortable in my own skin while that flesh is still mine to control.
I want my children to understand me.
While I still have the chance.