Dena Dyer

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when I needed him most. It was quite possibly his greatest act of love toward me. He was a distracted and distant father, a germophobe who hesitated to pick up his own children and could disappear into his thoughts for hours at a time—and yet there he was. It’s okay, you don’t have to fight it. I’ll take care of you. You can come with me.
In My Time of Dying: How I Came Face to Face with the Idea of an Afterlife
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