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There is no great sense of loss for those with limited expectations. Vague ache there may have been to contemplate the life of other boys who were also sons; inchoate envy of some sort was what if anything he likely felt to see many of those other boys even actually become, as the years went by, less the sons of and more the friends and fond companions of the men, even of the reprobate men; become less their sons eventually than loving doters on and helpers of the drunken penurious men or the flashing piratical rogues of whom great stories were told in their neighborhoods. Some sons became the veritable lieutenants of yet another breed of fathers who were the world’s pious familial stalwarts building out small fiefdoms or occasional empires from the small towns like the one he was born to or, no differently, from their brick stone or cobblestone South End or Back Bay tenement composts. And all he had really ever envied was not the doting or the embraces or the tacit reciprocities but simply that they had something, whatever it was, he did not and could never..