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10 hours ago ago from Author Haven
My son, Don Anderson Words don't come. I am still numb - devoid of feelings. I sit and soak in the ambiance of my home: comforting, muted shades and open spaces touched with splashes of color. The sound of the heater offsets the cold, bleak landscape outside my window. Home. I have come home from a nightmare of critical activity, on-going crisis and death. This place of solace and comfort wraps itself around my aching heart and body like ...
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