On a cold, foggy night in November 1959, a group of seven unknown boys knocked on my door. The reason that they were there is not relevant to my story. One of those boys was Bearsy.
From that time on he was my friend. He was always there, somewhere – utterly dependable, and honest. Â It was probably inevitable that we should, finally, marry.Â
Wednesday morning my Bear collapsed. He was in surgery within three hours – and although there seems to be some improvement, he has not yet regained conciousness.Â
He’s a stubborn b*r, and we all hope that that stubbornness will bring him through.
I have debated whether to post this, but we have been a little ‘community’ for a long time now.
Thank you all.Â
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