In March, my cousin's wife died unexpectantly. I went to Long Beach Island for the funeral. But before I went to the funeral house, I drove around the length of this 18 mile island and found that I was drawn to every old house, longing for the days when everyone was still alive: my parents, my grandparents, the aunts and the uncles. Where did they all go? I wanted to go back to 1972.
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