By Christopher Van Name
Sitting alone one stormy winter night in the old family shore house. Looking up at an old picture on the wall of my wife, three children and myself. I could feel that younger man staring down at me. Was I the man he thought I'd become? I spent that night with a bottle of sweet Grenache and my memories, demons and higher angels, as a raging Nor' Easter howled through the eaves. By midnight, the bottle was drained, I was a bit weary and bleary eyed, and I had jotted down this bittersweet, self-analytical piece about life, love, family and redemption.
In the end, it confirmed what i already knew. My darling wife, my lover, my friend and my heart and soul, has been along for the ride through thick and thin, strikes and gutters, ups and downs. T's been my privilege to have her by my side as we walk through the human comedy. As long as I can breathe, I'll pick her up if she falls down. Always. Forever.
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