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his surgery scar healing beautifully.
His cheeks were pink again.
His smile had returned.
“Mom,” he whispered, squeezing my hand, “are we okay now?”
I pulled him into my arms.
“Yes, sweetheart,” I said through tears. “We’re finally okay.”
Arthur passed away peacefully that winter.
Eleanor remained with me for four more beautiful years.
And today, the foundation continue reading …
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