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fighting tears. Grandpa was in hospice care by then. Skin like parchment, breaths coming thin and slow.
I held the last green soldier in my palm and leaned over his bed to hug him. At that point, he couldn’t even speak. “Thanks, Grandpa,” I whispered, voice trembling.
His eyes, those warm, secret-keeping eyes, blinked slowly at me. And then he closed continue reading …
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