My friend Nancy can’t run her fingers over the keys of her baby grand piano anymore. Her three guitars lie dusty. Although she used to sing in groups, Nancy’s voice is a whisper now, so faint that I lean forward toward the sofa as her lips move. “It’s rough,” she says.
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Croutons...
Chew on these seasoned bits of life for a little hope and humor along your highway. JOIN ME ~ I’ll send brief, occasional posts for this journey we're traveling on together.
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