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He nods.
She smiles.
Something is about to happen. I can feel it.
My mother takes the microphone from Jocelyn and steps to the center of the riser. She holds a folded note card in one hand.
Though I’m sure she has the speech memorized, she’s been rehearsing moments like this her entire life.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” she begins. “40 years.continue reading …
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