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She was born on a monday. It was a day worthy of memory:  a miracle.  a first.  a day the world changed for the better. A day my life changed for the better. That day her grandfather walked into my room and slipped a torn piece of paper into my hand...

Close calls

It was instinct and adrenaline, a hopeful protector but futile shield: “Close your eyes, Abby.”   Impotent words, like the reflex a mama uses when brakes are slammed and her arm flings across the front seat of the car. The big sister in the driver’s seat...

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