BETH Did I ever picture being a widow with a four-year-old son in my mid-thirties? No. But when my husband was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer, I wasn't given a choice. My whole home town rallied around me throughout his illness and in the wake of his death, supporting me in any way they could. None more so than the lead contractor from my work who will stop at nothing to make sure I'm taken care of.
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