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Chronic Sorrow
The sun was bright that July day, the lake was still, and the air was thick. I stood with my son in the long check-in line of junior high campers and parents. It was then that the thing hit me. My face grew hot. I was thankful for the sunglasses that hid my tears. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to shake free of it, but there was no escape. Choking back tears, I forced a smile and whispered to my son, “You realize, if things were different, I would be checking Annie and Aud...
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