By GUINN SWEET | email@example.com
May 13 is a day that will ever be in my memory. There are viable reasons for the importance of this date in my family history.
On May 13, 1929, my young mother took leave of a very taxing existence, which included a lifelong history of heart disease, two children in spite of warning against this by physicians, and a husband who was often under the affects of alcohol. Years later, in 1948, my precious grandfather and my mother’s father, died of pancreatic cancer. The date had become a day of sadness, in duplicate.
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