My mother was always dying of cancer. Mrs. Kirby’s family was two houses down, and she was like my 2nd mom. Her two boys were older and we didn’t have much in common, but she was so loving and caring, and helped me feel whole. One trip back to Baton Rouge, when my kids were in middle school, I took them to Mrs. Kirby’s house. I hadn’t seen her for many years, and there was an old woman in her front yard working on the azalea bushes. She turned, smiled, and rushed over giving me a bear hug, “Billy!” I introduced my wife and kids, as she hugged everyone, and her love was back, but then I realized it had never really left. Today be grateful for love that’s shared and never lost.
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