Will they be forgotten
Chris shared some of his writing with me this morning:
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The worst day of my life
Last week my surviving son, Chris, handed me a piece of paper with the following essay printed on it. I’m both heartbroken and proud of what he had to say:
Read MoreHello laughter, my old friend
His laughter was infectious. We smiled. We snorted. Within half a minute we too were howling out the kind of belly laugh that made our eyes stream and our sides ache.
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