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things never turn out exactly the way you planned. i know they didn’t with me. still, like my father used to say, ‘traffic’s traffic, you go where life takes you’ and growing up happens in a heartbeat. one day you’re in diapers, the next you’re gone, but the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. i remember a time, a place, a particular fourth of july, the things that happened in that decade of war and change. i remember a house like a lot of houses, a yard like a lot of yards, on a street like a lot of other streets. i remember how hard it was growing up among people and places i loved. most of all, i remember how hard it was to leave. and the thing is, after all these years