My father will turn 80 this year but to me he is ageless. He is not dying. Most people write about the people they love after they are gone. I want to write about him while he is still here.             I grew up on Long Island in the 70’s. The youngest of three children, my mother was a registered nurse and my father was an accountant. Dad moved out of the house and into an apartment in Manhattan when I was eight years old. It was the end of their marriage but the beginning of the discovery for me of who the man I call Pops really is. A journey that has taken 40 years and which continues today.             While a child, every Sunday he picked me up at our house in Bellmore, took me horseback riding in Babylon and then to Jack In The Box for tacos. I rode the train to the city to spend weekends with him. We went to Danbury, C......

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