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awakened.” “Mom,” he said, approaching hesitantly.
“Do you have a minute?” I gestured to the empty bench beside me. “Of course.”
He sat, his posture stiff, hands clasped between his knees. “I’ve been thinking about Mr. Abernathy’s room. The layout isn’t working for his wheelchair.
The bathroom door is too narrow, and he can’t reach the closet shelves.continue reading …
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