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The year was 1997. I remember clearly getting the phone call that my mother had died.
It’s been a little more than 12 years, but I still miss her.
I remember the last time I saw her. There was a look that passed between us that sent chills over me. As I drove away to another town where I was working, I had to fight back the tears. Somehow we both sensed that was the last time we would speak. And a week later, the call came.
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