Photo by Tim Doerfler on Unsplash

I am not afraid of dying…

gene candeloro
8 min readJul 23, 2021

I was sitting in my big comfy chair overlooking the lake. I was waiting for my son to pick me up. I just wasn’t as excited to see him this visit. He was late, as usual. This time I was glad. I started drifting off. Suddenly my entire life was flashing before my eyes. Oh, what a grand life it’s been! I have lived all over this great country. What a lucky kid — I grew up looking at the skyline of NYC every day.
I was born of an Italian immigrant and Sinatra from Hoboken. I didn’t realize when I was young that I had two wonderful parents. We had a circle of loving aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. A wonderful sister that I now love more and more each day as we age not so gracefully together! Fighters we are! My family taught me love, respect, and the blessings of a loving family. Our every get-together became a feast. The Italian table was the altar of our family religion.
That city across the river became my hometown. Even as a teenager I felt the excitement of NYC. I traveled the alleys in Chinatown for a greasy bag of fresh hot dumplings. I went on drug deals with my crazy friends. I waited in line with anticipation for the new, hit Broadway play. I saw the basketball
greats at Madison Square Garden, trips to Yankee Stadium! I saw Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra, and Roger Maris! I saw the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade a dozen times and braved the cold and the tens of thousands of crowds on New Year Eve in Times Square. NYC, the…

gene candeloro

Writer, photog., wanderer. Hopeful romantic. Lover of all things dogs. I write about ordinary people. Follow my Relentless Pursuit. Medium Noteworthy Writer.