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Dear Darren:
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You became part of our family when
you were seven years old. You carried on your back the kind of load that
no child should have had to bear. You had already dealt with more in
your first few years than most adults ever face in their entire
lifetime. It
was difficult for you at first to understand or accept that your future
did not have to be as bleak as your past had been.
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Your
ultimate roads took you through high school, through college, sailed you
on a student-run tall ship to Hawaii, gave you the legs and endurance to
run a marathon, gave you the hands to build worlds made of wood and
models made of bits of cardboard, gave you an ear to appreciate music,
and the creativity to build a beautiful garden. But the one significant
signpost you read and followed was the one in your heart that led to
your beautiful wife, Dana.
I carry in my wallet a tattered, discoloured
piece of cardboard you gave me for Mother's Day when you were nine years old.
You
called me 'Mom' for the first time.
Thank you, Darren, for
the privilege of being your 'Mom'.
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