The last thing I could do for my father was to place the old tweed cap on his head as his body was wheeled out of the house. Once the cap had sat snug on his head, but now it fell down over his nose. Not that it mattered now. The ravage of cancer had shed his body away to nothing. ‘He can’t go without his hat,’ I said.
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The Power of a good hug
We all know the rules of social distancing in these Covid times. The idea of masking up and the importance of doing the right thing.
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