My firstborn appeared in New York City in 1963. His mother took him up to Toronto, Canada, and I missed his growing up years, referred to elsewhere. But I sneaked him his U.S. passport, and with his very early memories of me and his half brother and sisters, and his grandparents which I forced on him, he never forgot, I just had to wait him out for ten more years when he left home.
I don’t regret a thing, and now he is happily married to an Irish girl, has 2 children, lives in Dublin, and is a very talented screen-writer.
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