Still kicking.

As a tiny child during that tumultuous year, my memories are mostly a blur, but a few vivid moments stand out. The most significant event was the disintegration of my parents' marriage, a painful chapter that marked the end of my childhood innocence, even at two years old. My father moved out, leaving a void that felt impossibly large, and my mother and I packed up our lives and relocated to Pennsauken, NJ. We sought refuge with one of her eccentric friends, a woman whose quirks seemed bewildering to me at the time. It wasn't until about fifteen years later that I could fully appreciate her peculiar charm and the warmth she offered in our time of need. She became a crucial pillar of support for both my mother and me after Dad chose to leave us for Margaret, a woman whose life on the fringes of society was far removed from anything I could comprehend as a child. The more joyful experiences awaited us just around the corner, in 1969, a year that promised to usher in a series of adventures and brighter moments, almost like a beacon of hope after the storm we had weathered.