October 27, 1984.
That was the day I first came to Puckaway. I was exactly three weeks old.
Think about that. There's another family living in the house where I grew up. Both of my parents have held down several different jobs. Pets that once ran through the marshes up here are now buried beneath them. I've experienced braces, broken arms, and open-heart surgery. I've gone through many different cars, clothes, and technologies. I've fallen in, out, and back in love. I've gained true friends. I lost my lifelong hero.
For 23 years, in spite of any of the great changes of my life, this place has always remained constant.
I absolutely love it here. I always will.
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