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Christopher went so pale that even I forgot I was supposed to be leaving.
Twenty minutes earlier, he hadn’t cared who I was.
That was the part I couldn’t forget.
Christopher went so pale.
I was 74, recently widowed, and careful with money because Social Security didn’t leave much room for mistakes. That afternoon would have been my 47th wedding anniversary.
Frank had been gone 18 months.
And I still brought flowers to the cemetery.
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