Sunday, May 17, 2009
I wish I could have held his hand
There was a strange old man that I saw in the park every day when my children were little and I took them there to play, just a neighbor... not a friend, that said hello and so long he would ask me about the children,about the health of my Mom, and then would go, on his merry way with his dog. I did not know much about him... though he lived right next door, never went inside his home until the day that he died when I went in to get his dog. Sitting on the kitchen table there was a used white...
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