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The southwest corner of my basement is where I have strategically placed my Christmas presents for Mary. They are very conspicuously , yes conspicuously , hidden under an old blanket in an attempt to conceal the identity of both the packaging and the contents. Mary is familiar enough with...
Mary and I were just outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming on our way to Casper when Mary spotted a sign for a Starbucks. “Let’s stop. I’ll buy!”
The offer from Mary was spontaneous, genuine… and then humorous. The Starbucks card that Mary planned on using when we...
An eighteen-year-old Taylor University freshman captured my attention, then my heart, and then my mind. I was wowed by Mary Cargo, and in late spring of 1975 I looked into her blue eyes and proclaimed the depth of my feelings. "I love you."
My heart raced, my palms were wet,...
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