Recently, I attended my husband’s 50th high school reunion. Reunions come packaged with all sorts of anticipation mixed with anxiety. It wasn’t my reunion, so I was looking forward as an observer, seeing a slice of Gary’s life I hadn’t seen yet. At the Friday night mixer, a classmate in recognition rushed up to Gary. Within minutes, the stories poured out of her life. Her husband died two years earlier, a severe illness still plagued…
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