My 3 kids never visited me once while I was dying of cancer but this biker I’d never met held my hand every single day. I’m seventy-three years old, lying in this hospice bed with stage four lung cancer, and my three children haven’t visited me in six months.
But this man—this tattooed, bearded biker I’d never met before last week—has …
👇 👇 👇 👇 👇
