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The box

A few years ago, I was sitting watching telly when Paul came in and gave a cardboard box to me. He said he didn't want to give it to me until now, as he was worried I may be upset. I was intrigued.

Inside were pieces of paper from when I was in hospital. Notes that he and my parents had made, what I'd drawn and written, cards from well-wishers and the odd photo.

I was lost for words. I've now made a framed display of what I've posted up here. So, on my worst, most frustrated days I can look at where I first was and compare it to where I now am ❤️

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