I’m Sorry and Thank You to you All

Yesterday I wrote in my blog a post that started with tales of my motorcycle ride with my husband celebrating our 33rd wedding anniversary. I included stories of how and when we started motorcycling and camping. I told the story at the beginning but the last part of my post was how tainted those memories are for me because all my good memories are now tainted with the sadness of losing my daughter Kaitlyn. Then I went on to question where all my past commenters have gone. That is where I went wrong.

A lady commented and told me that after so long (it’s been a year yesterday as I got this congratulations message from WordPress that it has been a year since I joined. I felt no jubilance in this milestone for obvious reasons) that my commenters probably still read my posts but have long run out of things to say since it’s been so long. She was right. I should have never asked. But I did not do it in a mean way. I guess I just wanted to hear from some that I’ve not heard from in a long time. But I see her point. She is right. Just how many “I’m sorry’s” and “I feel your pain” can one say. I understand.

She went on to nicely say that she enjoyed the first part of my story when I told about my husband and our adventures in motorcycling and camping and then she came to the last part where I told how sad I still was. She suggested I start writing more about my husband, my other daughter and the happier things in my life.

But I just want to say, that my blog is not about any of my other adventures. If I wanted to do that I would form another blog entirely. It’s not that I don’t write about my husband, other daughter and other things I try to do to help myself to feel better. If you go to my Facebook you will see where I wrote about my trip yesterday. Down farther is my post about the wonderful husband that I have and have had since 1981. Go down farther and you will see where I bragged relentlessly about my daughter Stephanie as she passed another year in Nursing School and will be graduating in a year and a half. Every time I go somewhere and do something with her or my husband or others in my family, I post it on my Facebook. I still also post about my sadness, but I include the good times as well.

This blog is preserved for something else. As it says in my bio, my blog is to help me make it through the loss of my daughter Kaitlyn by suicide. It’s not a blog about my whole life. This blog and what I write about Kaitlyn is my therapy. Since I found counselors useless for me (I’ve gone through 2 of them since she died) and I can find no suicide survivor’s group anywhere near me, and I am not around that many people to talk to except for my family, this blog has been my lifeline into getting my feelings out. It is my therapy. There have been times when I don’t know what I would have done had I not had this outlet.

So having my extra sensitive feelings hurt yesterday by someone reminding me that I should focus on other people in my family and write about them (which made me feel like they thought I did not care for them….I know this lady did not mean to imply this, but my feelings were hurt none the less) I deleted the whole entire post and her comment along with it, being almost tempted to delete my entire blog. Or at the very least quit posting on it at all. But I just can’t delete a year’s worth of my feelings, so it will stay as it is.

I thought along with getting my feelings out, that I may have been helping people along the way. And I think I have. But I think this has run its limits as far as helping people and I’m just sorry that it’s so sad. I’m sorry I even have to have a reason for this blog. I’m sorry about so many things. I’m a mixed up, depressed, way too sensitive person (especially since my daughter died) who doesn’t know if they should continue to write about it when I feel moved to or not.

I do feel a need to not post as much about my feelings as I’ve said all that can be said. It’s just that I don’t know what to do with this pain. And the pain has only intensified over the months. Now I’m starting to feel like I’m hosting my own pity party, and that is not what I want to portray.

I may still write when I feel moved to. Sometimes I have deep thoughts when it comes to an experience, like one of my last posts “In the night.” Things like that move me to write about it. But I may not post anything else and if I don’t I hope so very much that my blog has helped others as it has helped me and there is plenty to go back and read if anyone feels moved to.

But, I’m sorry to ask where you all have gone and why you don’t comment. I should not have done that. There’s only so much people can say. And I thank you for all that has been said, but I guess all this has run its course.

Thank you ALL for everything. It’s just that I continue to feel so terribly sad that, I may write things I shouldn’t. Perhaps I should not have written this post at all.

Look at me putting all my feelings out there like something silly. Kaitlyn would have NEVER put her feelings out there for the world to see or for anyone to see…..but….she’s also no longer here so…..I thought by getting my feelings out it would be the best thing.

Clearly I’m rambling now and need to close. Perhaps my own depression is deepening and I no longer know what I’m writing about or how to take what anyone says the right way….I don’t know…I’m just a mess. I hope you don’t hold that against me either. I once wrote some worthy things.

BUT, I want to extend my sincere gratitude for each and every one of you that has commented, liked, and supported me during this whole past year, and there have been MANY of you. I appreciate it more than you will ever know and to ask where my commenters have gone was making it look like I’ve been abandoned, and I haven’t and didn’t mean to imply this. But I’m rather messed up right now so please don’t hold it against me.

Thank you all.

Below is a pic of my husband and I just a few months ago. We are smiling but it’s not really real and I think I’ve aged 10 years since Kaitlyn died. This is me now.

Good bye to you all IF I don’t post again.

me and allyn

About gatito2

My name is Rhonda. I'm a registered nurse, for the last 20 years, that has not been able to work since the day I learned of my daughter's death by suicide 4-12-13. (She actually died 4-11-13 and her body was not found until the 12th) Me and my husband have been married for 32 years and he's a wonderful man. We grieve in different ways. He works, I write. This is my journey through this horrible land of losing a child..
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31 Responses to I’m Sorry and Thank You to you All

  1. mewhoami says:

    This is your outlet. This is your place to vent your feelings, your emotions. Whether you’ve said something once or a hundred times, it’s okay. Expressing our feelings is what most of us are here for. I’m sure we all repeat the same thought over and over. The only difference is, it’s that yours could save someone’s life. I personally believe that you should continue to write, get your feelings out and give yourself the therapy you need through your writing. This is your place to use as you need. You should never feel guilty for doing so.

    Also, you do help people still. If you stopped writing, then “newbies” like me, would probably never find these posts. There were many times when I wanted to end it all and it wasn’t until I began reading your posts that I realized just how much pain I would have caused by doing so. Imagine all the people that could be saved from making such a terrible choice. Your posts need to be written, not only for you, but for others. Thank you for your honesty, your truth and your undeniable concern for others.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. JCox says:

    It has been a year, but in grief that is such a short time. It took me two years or so before I began to feel like myself, to begin to find my new normal – and my loss was in the expected cycle of life. The loss of a child would make that journey much longer – that journey to the self that can bear the pain. Thank you for saying that responses to your posts have been important to you. Sorry that not posting left you feeling alone. I always worried if I have written the right or wrong words, but I have always cared. A year is a very short time.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Uncle Spike says:

    Hereby enclosed; is one friendly e-slap 🙂

    Seriously, this is YOUR blog, so you decide what to write, when to write, and if at all. Do I care, well, yes I do. Sometimes I may click ‘like’, or may comment, or may have done neither… but that has nothing to do with your need or reason to blog Rhonda – you do how you see fit, and that is all I can recommend.

    As others have stated, this is your outlet, nothing more, nothing less.

    Would we like to hear cheery stories of the rest of your life, of course, it’s only natural we would crave to hear of happier posts from you, BUT, again, it’s your blog about Kaitlyn as you so rightly say, so…. you don’t have to, and really shouldn’t even consider what may be perceived as the normal rules of blog etiquette. Do as you see fit.

    With a hell of a lot of respect, Spike & family.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. One of the things I have learned along the way: there is no time-limit on greif. We all have our own time-lines, and you are doing what you need to in order to get through your days. I go through spurts of commenting and reading based on my own moods, so I may not always pay attention (and quite honestly, I feel really guilty reading your blog a lot of the time because of my own differing views on suicide.) but it keeps me grounded and seeing another perspective. I very much need that.
    ((hugs)) feel free to keep this blog whatever you need it to be for YOU. Don’t change it just to make others feel comfortable, because then you lose out on getting your comfort. Sad tings happen, horrific things happen, and if you are stuck in greif for 2 years or ten, it’s only ever at your pace. The loss of a child is unimaginably difficult. I watched my grandma greive for her daughter, and I saw how aweful it made her feel when anyone suggested she pack her pain away because her tears made others uncomfortable. Do what you need to. Cry as often as you need to, and eventually it will lift a bit. The days will get a bit easier, but get there however you need to get there.


  5. Dee says:

    I found this blog out of desperation as I got up everyday and desperately googled to escape my deep unending sadness before I had to go to work. I live the unbearable horrendous sadness of losing my beautiful daughter to suicide. I have desperately searched for others who are in the world I live now as no other people seem to have any understanding of it at all. Yet I must get up every day and live amongst those people.
    I have slipped away for three years now to a secret world of my own where I still see and hear and communicate with other humans only to retreat to my world when the day is done. Where I can escape the pretend that I am faced to live as it bothers people to show the real me. The very sad, very depressed partially here person I have become. I take off the mask when I retreat to my world.
    To lose your child is the most horrific pain one can feel. The pain never leaves you. It deepens with time as you start to figure out this is real. As days and years go by you sometimes question the emptiness of the room you stand in and look around asking “Is this real?” Because losing a child, your own beautiful child should not be real and is too much of a shock to believe.
    I am here three years and three months still in shock! Someone please wake me from this nightmare!
    One day I happened upon Rhonda Elkins blog…and here is where it became my safe place to go. A place where someone finely and really understood how I feel and knew my pain. My mask was off here! I could be me the empty sad person I have become with no one judging me for staying in my pain that I just cannot climb out of because others want me too.
    I do not speak much and I do not comment much here but coming to the blog was my escape!
    I do not read it every day any more like I used to only because I am in so much pain I quit reading everything for a while.
    The person who commented to you Rhonda was one person. One out of the who knows how many hundreds or more people who read this blog that is your blog. That person made a comment to a blog that is public. She had the right to because it is public and you had the right to erase it. It is useless to the rest of us to read it but I hope the lady had good intentions when she wrote it.
    From reading your blog we all know you have a great family. We’ve heard of Kaitlyn’s dad Allyn and of Kaitlyn’s beautiful sister Stephanie. Of course we all wish the best for them and know they suffer horrific pain. This blog is about your pain though and about the beautiful Kaitlyn we have all got to know. I have come here all these months to hear your pain because it relates to mine.
    Sadly that is what I have searched for. Sorry but I am not searching for family stories of happy times as all my happy memories just as yours have been tainted with the death and suicide of my daughter. Those words death and suicide are still very very hard for me to say about my beautiful beloved daughter.
    It is your choice to come here and speak. No one can take that from you and none of us have the right to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.
    Understand that you haven’t run out of things to say. And you will repeat things you’ve already spoke about over and over again because it is painful and unbelievable to lose your daughter. Sadly you cannot create more memories so you can only repeatedly speak of what was and how you feel without her here in this time you live.
    No one can tell you how long to grieve either. Grieving your child is a lifetime. It doesn’t just end because others think it’s time to move on. You are still in shock and disbelief and maybe always will be. I’d like to know what the heck moving on is anyway! Seems such a mean thing to say to someone. I get up every day even though it is hard. I work five days a week 39.5 hours helping people 8 hours a day so I can get a paycheck. Time is moving on! Three years and three months have passed. I cry everyday several times a day in shock that my daughter is gone. I cannot believe three years and three months later. I cannot imagine more years without her. I cannot believe my heart has not stopped and I am still here.
    Yes I do try to have fun and for short bursts of time I do but only to be hit with the pain of she is not here to enjoy life with me and her family. Yes then the fun now has sadness.
    I quit listening to others ignorance long ago. We are all ignorant to what we don’t know or understand. To be ignorant is normal….but once given the information you’ve now given understanding. When another fills you in on what the grief of losing your child feels like you are no longer innocent or ignorant to the facts and reality of the grief. Yet purposeful ignorance can be cruel.
    Stay on your blog as long as you need to or want to Rhonda! I am one who will come and go from here just because it is all I can do. I will never ever tire of hearing about Kaitlyn especially the fun sweet person she was or looking at her pictures.
    I miss my precious beautiful smart witty Kelly with the biggest heart of any human I’ve ever known! I miss her so much I can’t stand it. I sometimes wonder if I will get off the floor today as I have my gut wrenching cry. Yes even three years later and I can’t ever imagine this pain ever going away! It is so deeply sad and painful! You know that!
    I am here!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Being a newbie at blogging, I came across your CNN post just the other day. I have not read any of your past posts and do not know your followers I usually don’t comment because commenting means I am putting myself out there. For me it means I am choosing to connect with someone…something that is difficult for me to do..even over cyberspace. I can’t speak for others, but when I do comment, it’s because something someone has written has resonated within me. We are all at different stages of our healing and we all have different stories to tell. Blogging can be viewed as a social network and/or as a personal outlet. I choose to use it as a personal outlet. If writing and blogging into cyberspace helps you on your road to healing, then by all means do it. Are you blogging for for yourself? Are you blogging to help others? Are you doing it for both reasons? Sometimes a post may be for you, other times a post may be in hopes of helping someone else. Both are worthy of being posted. Keep up your good work, and please continue to share. I am proud of the hard work you have been doing. The grief and pain is overwhelming yet it is mixed with little glimpses of joy and bittersweet happiness (your butterfly post).

    What your butterfly post meant to me: I have always thought that the soul, the life of my mother is gone. It is dead. Their is nothing more, nothing less. It’s just is what it is. The first and only survivors of suicide meeting I went to, a lady talked about seeing the soul of her son in the form of a butterfly, and others agreed with her. I thought that was bullhonkey. Whenever I see something beautiful that reminds me of my mom, I squash it. She’s dead. That’s all their is to it. She’s not here.

    So when I came upon your post, I began reading it…hoping the post wouldn’t turn into bullhonkey. And you know what? It didn’t! For me, the post walked a line between remembering your daughter fondly and missing her with every ounce of your body. I closed your post and my ipad in deep thought. And I still think about it. I saw a lizard the other day and thought, could that be what would remind me of my mom fondly? Then I said…naw. It’s too ugly! I made myself laugh.

    I haven’t found something in nature yet. And maybe I won’t. Maybe it’s the soft breeze that cools me on a hot day. Maybe its the vibrant greens that grow in my backyard. Maybe its the gnarly tree that stubbornly continues to grow even though it never gets watered. Maybe I will plant some seeds and watch them grow. I don’t know. After thinking about these things (because of your post) I think I’m afraid to find something. I’m afraid to feel love and affection toward something. Because that something will fly away. Or it will die. So I ignore them. I’m afraid of being left alone again. Your post helped me recognize this poignant point about myself. Thank you.

    I do know I didn’t comment on your post when I read it… the post had to sit and marinate in my brain. It was only yesterday I laughed about choosing a lizard. We all touch lives and mostly by many degrees of separation. So please, continue what you are doing. I like it.


  7. grahamforeverinmyheart says:

    Remember some people suggested that you shouldn’t write a book, but you did anyway. You don’t need to listen to comments from people who can’t possibly understand your grief. I promise you that bereaved parents who read your blog are very appreciative that you share your thoughts and feelings. If someone wants to read a different type of blog, then she’s in the wrong place. You’ve been very clear about the purpose of your blog. I don’t eat meat, but I don’t go into bbq restaurants and complain that they should serve something else. I just go to places where I can get what I want. That’s what this commenter should do too.


  8. edgarone2 says:

    We are here with you Rhonda. You are not alone.


  9. Amanda says:

    Ditto, Uncle Spike!

    Liked by 2 people

  10. gatito2 says:

    Thank you for telling me my writing made a difference for you. That made me feel good.


  11. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. You never write the wrong words.


  12. gatito2 says:

    e-slap accepted Spike. Thank you. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  13. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. No one has to reply all the time. I understand that now. I was having a horrible day and sometimes get all….well I don’t even know how to say how I get. 🙂


  14. gatito2 says:

    Thank you Dee for your comments. I understand about not reading about this heartache sometimes because you just can’t do it anymore sometimes. That happens to me too. This is the worst pain someone could ever try to endure and how to try to figure out how to live through it is exhausting and confusing.


  15. gatito2 says:

    Bullhonkey? Hahaha! I’ve never heard that word before. I like it. I’m glad you liked my post but I don’t remember a butterfly one exactly off the top of my head. I’ve written many things about dragonflies and flowers. And the other day I wrote about the first dragonflies of this year that I saw…..is that the one?


  16. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. Good analogy there.


  17. gatito2 says:

    Thank you.


  18. Cathy in Missouri says:

    You are so, so normal. Your feelings are normal. The struggle with words – how much to put out there, what to express, dealing with what others say or don’t say, wanting to write, wanting to stop writing, closing up, pouring out, quitting, returning – all normal.

    In desperation, I have read “blogs of grief” for years. All kinds. Trying to survive what is going on here. Too much to fit words around. But I have seen this – what you are describing – time and time and time again. And more times after that.

    Someone – in this case, you – pouring out their heart and soul. Trying to find words for the unspeakable. Struggling to breathe. Struggling to *want* to breathe. Groping, searching for some way through, for the hands of others in the darkness. Telling the truth. Being as real as real is. Living in Hell. Loving in Hell.

    And always, somewhere along the way, there is someone else. Someone else – who feels the need to correct or critique or suggest or modify or trim or edge what is being said. Someone who doesn’t understand why they should keep their mouth shut. Someone who is obviously NOT in grief or they would KNOW why they should keep their mouth shut. Someone who doesn’t understand – and shows it. Someone who doesn’t get it. Someone who comments and adds to the pain. Infinite pain, but they find a way to pile on top.

    There is always someone.

    I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry Kaitlyn is dead. I’m so sorry you have any reason to write. I’m so sorry anyone in the world would could misunderstand your writing about Kaitlyn to mean you love the rest of your family any less. I’m so sorry that in the midst of the wringer, you are being put through another wringer. I’m so sorry that this story repeats and repeats and repeats.

    You, Kaitlyn – you make a difference. In my life, in the lives of many. Every time someone says, “Because of what you write, I find strength to go on. I find strength NOT to end my life,” I think – Yes. Me, too. Your Kaitlyn matters. You matter. Your words about Kaitlyn matter.

    None of this is worth Kaitlyn’s death. NOTHING is worth Kaitlyn’s death. Nothing ever could be.

    You are trying to bring what you can out a Hell beyond words. You are trying to help others while you bear the unbearable.

    And your daughter is still dead. Every day, you have to bear that. Every day. Every night. Every, every, every.

    Please…don’t believe the someones. Don’t listen to them. Don’t let them tell you what is and what isn’t. You know what is and what isn’t. They don’t. If only they would keep quiet, keep still – and learn.

    I have never commented, but I’ve read every word you’ve written. And I’ll keep reading. And I’ll come back and re-read. And if/when you stop writing, I’ll understand.

    But I’ll always be grateful to you. And I’ll always think of your Kaitlyn. She is not going to be forgotten. Ever.



  19. gatito2 says:

    Oh my gosh….you understand totally who I am and what I’m going through. What to say, what not to say, should I have said this, should I not have said that, have I said too much, too little, do I help people or make it worse, do I help myself or do put too much of myself out there. That’s me. That is ME. And with all this…..she is STILL dead. Thank you so much for understanding. And I really understand that people don’t always reply. I should have never made that remark. See, I even say things I shouldn’t and that lady has since apologized to me by email. She didn’t mean to hurt my feelings and I know she didn’t. It’s just ME. I’m so sensitive. How can anyone know what to say to me? You have done better describing how I feel and why I go back and forth better than I even could. Thank you for understanding.


  20. Cathy in Missouri says:

    I love that lady for apologizing to you. I love her. Many do not, but she came back and did it. I’m glad.

    And you make all the sense in the world. To me. To a whole lot of other people. You are not strange.

    Remembering Kaitlyn. Always.


  21. I understand. Some days I obsessively check my stats to feel like maybe someone is reading and I’m not so alone.

    Liked by 1 person

  22. Dee says:

    I totally agree! Whoever you are Cathy in Missouri you certainly get it, understand and have a great way of speaking what you get! It is hard what Rhonda and all of us who lost our child are going through! Rhonda I am so glad the lady who commented apologized to you! It’s a relief for you and her as she must not have intended to hurt you.
    Don’t ever forget I myself and all who have lost their child and those of us to suicide know your pain, feel your pain and go through all the daily moment by moment series of emotions that others simply cannot understand. You always speak real! That is so much appreciated!


  23. Yes, it must have been dragonflies then. Possibly why I didn’t ‘bullhonkey’ the post! 🙂 I know you spoke about the memorial garden you had planted. It made me think that I might be able to do something nice like that one day. When it feels right. Have a good one, my dear.


  24. Matt Fried says:

    I think, if you continue, as I hope you do, that you’ll find that the ‘purpose’ or ‘mission’ of your blog will change over time. That’s because you’re going to change.

    It doesn’t mean that this past year’s posts & mission are any less important. So I hope you leave them up here even if that means creating a new blog.

    Clearly writing is something you enjoy doing so I hope you continue.

    Writing about depression, loss, & suicide every day – that’s tricky. Who wants to read that? I’ve struggled with the same issue myself. Putting new twists on it are necessary.

    It’s most certainly true that many readers & commentors will take seemingly long hiatuses during which you’ll wonder where they went, or why your stats are down.

    Each of us has our own things going on as you know. I can speak for myself when I say that I get your posts daily by email, look forward to them, and although I don’t always comment, I’m reading them


  25. Sd1187 says:

    This is my first comment despite frequently reading your blog. I am commenting, though, to let you know that a lack of comments (or temporarily less readers than usual) does not negate the importance of your blog, which you have already now realized. Your blog is for YOU if you find it therapeutic… it just happens to also be helping tons of other people out there, including myself. As I approach the start of residency, I find myself sinking into a depression deeper than I have experienced in a long while. The unmasked emotions that you are willing to share with the world on your blog are what have saved my life… Sometimes the only thing keeping me grounded in reality and preventing me from making a tragic mistake is your honesty and the reminder of the agony I would cause my loved ones. You do not need to sensor your life, your feelings, your memories- they are real, and there is no shame in the truth. The only shame is that others may intentionally or unintentionally make you feel bad about it.


  26. gatito2 says:

    Thank you for your reply and it makes me feel good to know that my posts have made you realize what would happened to your loved ones if you let depression take you to that final place it can take someone. At least that helps to know. My daughter knew it would hurt us all, as per her note, but I don’t think she realized she would change every molecule of my entire being from her suicide.

    I know medical school more than likely does not really cause mental illness unless one is predisposed to having it anyway, but I know without a doubt if someone is depressed already that the stress of medical school has to make it so much worse, especially without treatment.

    You never mentioned whether you are seeking help with your depression or not. Not trying to preach to you, but if you are not, please do. I think my daughter thought she could conquer it on her own because after all, she has conquered everything she ever tried to in her life….but not this….not by herself….and then it was too late.

    Thank you for taking the time to comment and make me feel better. These last couple of weeks have been the ultimate in feeling so very sad. I wish you well and so much happiness in your career. But please, take care of yourself as well as those patients.


  27. gatito2 says:

    Thank you Matt.


  28. Sd1187 says:

    Thank you for your concern. Yes, I am finally going to seek help, and this decision was strongly influenced by Kaitlyn’s story that you have shared. Like her, I keep thinking that I can conquer it on my own, but I now realize that this is not something to take a risk with. Even though I feel scared and defeated at the idea of admitting that I need the help, I also feel a little more hopeful knowing that I may feel a little better one day soon. I wish that Kaitlyn could have known that her life was so much more valuable than she believed and that she was worth so much more than the successful image she was keeping up. I’ve been defining myself by my accomplishments and do have a seemingly perfect life, but now I finally see that an “imperfect” life at all is more important than the risk of no life. I’m so sorry for your Kaitlyn and your loss. Thank you for helping me finally see this, though.


  29. gatito2 says:

    I am so glad that your are realizing the things that Kaitlyn did not or could not. The pursuit of perfection is a recipe for disaster because no one can achieve it. No one is perfect. I just don’t think she could admit to anyone she had this problem and just so many things I think are the reasons she did not get help. I am so glad that you are. At least trying is better than being dead. I wish you so much happiness. And always remember Kaitlyn and what I just said about perfection.


  30. cathjw says:

    This was the first post that I read on your blog. I’ve been lurking about here, trying to comment ever since.

    Firstly I just wanted to say that your daughter was a beautiful soul and I’m so deeply sorry that she is not with you today. More sorry than I could ever, ever hope to say.

    Please don’t ever feel you have to apologise, to stop or to delete your words. How you feel matters, how you feel about your daughter matters. You don’t ever need to second guess or censor what you write here. This is your place. I’m so glad that you decided to continue writing and that this post was not your last.


  31. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. I appreciate that so much. I just get really disillusioned sometimes. It passes until I get that way again. 🙂 Thank you about what you said about Kaitlyn. She has always been a beautiful soul.


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