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The Dock


The dock at my father's lake came off its mooring during a strong wind this summer. A neighbor tied the floating pieces together until my dad could fix it.


My dad is 78.


He still puts in his own docks every May, all by himself, with the tools he's used since he bought property on the lake.


That was in 1963.


When we found out the dock had come unhinged, I suggested that my boys help their Papa. We arrived at the lake and they  jumped in the water to help. Several bolts had been pulled out from the wind and needed to be found. Malakai went under water and found some hiding in the sand.

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