A journey through the mind of one of our community members and a metastatic breast cancer warrior, Annette Danes Hiatt from Idaho, United States, as she shares it with us in her own words . Annette takes us through the phases of her diagnosis, acceptance, preparations, life situations, dreams ,repentances, advices and courage experienced by her and her loved ones.
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First Thoughts After Diagnosis:
At the end of
March 2017 , after 20 years in remission, I was diagnosed with mets to my
sternum and lungs. I was allergic to treatments they tried and I wouldn't to do
chemo. I was pretty much out of options. I was going to die anyway and I
refused to be sick the rest of my life. This was my choice. It isn't for
everyone but I've had cancer twice before and spent plenty of time on chemo
sick, sick, sick. I had small children and would do whatever it took to survive
and raise them. They are grown and raising families of their own, except two.
One is single living on his own and one who has disabilities. He's 30 and still
lives at home. My husband and I talked this over at length and agreed that we
would rather have quality of life over quantity of life. We have made the very
most of the last 2 years! We haven't sat around sad and depressed. We took the
life I had left and celebrated every day. Not just my husband and I, but our
children as well. Yes, we've shed plenty of tears, but we decided making
memories was what mattered most. We had Grandma/Grandpa camp with the grandkids
each summer, spent time away with each family on an adventure, had family
reunions, celebrated holidays, birthdays, and cherished ordinary everyday
moments. My son pulled the cancer card and I got to be in the OR to watch the
C-Section when my last grandchild was born. Five weeks early no less. Unheard
of! AWESOME! Our children sent us to Hawaii all expenses paid in September
2017, my youngest daughter took me on a 7 day Mediterranean cruise in November
2017 with an additional 4 days in Venice and she paid for it all and flew me
home first class. I could never have afforded that! In December we rented a
cabin in the mountains and took some of the kids and their families up for
adventures with them. Spring found us on adventures with more children and
their families. In July we left for a 21 day Alaskan sea/land cruise. We had to
come home a little early because I had a blocked stent but arrived at the ER
just in time to narrowly escape a heart attack that would have killed me. So
grateful! 6 weeks later we flew to Boston, compliments of our children, rented
a car, and spent 2 weeks watching the leaves turn in New England. It was
magical. We got home October 12th. By October 21st I had to use a wheelchair to
go on outings such as the grocery store or church. Things where I had to walk
far. By the middle of January I needed the wheelchair in my house. By the end
of October I didn't have the energy to cook or clean. Now I can't shower or
dress or undress. I'm weak but I do what I can and I'm still smiling. We text,
we keep in touch on Marco Polo, and we email. The kids who live near visit
often. We had a great time and I have no regrets. Had I been in treatment we
couldn't have done all we did. We have loved, laughed, cried, made memories,
shared so much, felt deeply, and become closer than we ever have been. We have
been honest and open and talked about everything. Everyone's feelings are
valid. With 8 children there are many different feelings and I need to respect
all their feelings and how they are each dealing with things. I have tried to
be sensitive to their needs. I will eventually be gone but they will be left to
carry on. How I react to them will make a difference in how they are able to
deal with the grief and loss. I have taught them how to live. Now I'm teaching them
how to die.
Much love, Annette
Reaching A Point Of Acceptance:
Getting dressed and looking nice has always been important to me. I always did my hair no matter what. The day I couldn’t do my hair anymore, I cried. Even when I stopped feeling good I still had Mike help me get dressed and someone did my hair. Then I had a day or two a month when I didn’t get dressed, but someone still did my hair. I always put on lipstick no matter what. I joked that without my lipstick I look dead. It became harder and harder to get dressed, but I didn’t want to give that up. When I had cancer the first time I went to a program hosted by the American Cancer Society called Look Good, Feel Better. The premise is, if you look good, you’ll feel better. It’s true. So I have tried to do that. Even after I went on hospice, I got up every morning, got ready for the day, got dressed, did my hair, put on lipstick, and looked good. I gave up each thing, little by little. This past week, I just can’t do it anymore. My aide came today. She blow-dried my hair but I didn’t have her curl it. It was too much. I didn’t get dressed. It is too much. I didn’t get dressed yesterday either. There were days last week I didn’t get dressed. I won’t get dressed tomorrow. There was a time I couldn’t have handled that. I have never been one to stay in pajamas, or not curl my hair, but it’s ok now. I have come to a point of acceptance. There have been many things I have had to come to a point of acceptance about. I was snowshoeing every day the winter before I was diagnosed, and then one day I could no longer breathe. I was very active, but that ended with my diagnosis. There were so many things I used to do and little by little, one by one, they went away. I had to come to a point of acceptance with each one. The day I needed a wheelchair was quite traumatic. I didn’t want a wheelchair! I didn’t need a wheelchair! Only, I did. I didn’t want a portable toilet, but I couldn’t make it by myself to the bathroom at night and I didn’t want to wake my husband all the time. I didn’t want depends but I started having accidents. I had to come to a place of acceptance with all of that. I am a fiercely independent woman and this has been very difficult! I cooked for a family of 10 most of my life and suddenly I couldn’t even cook for 3 of us. I canned a whole garden every year, bottled all our meat, baked all our bread the whole time my children were growing up and up until I couldn’t anymore. Those things were who I was. I sewed all my children’s clothes, wedding dresses, formals, suits, everything, and then I couldn’t. I had to come to a place of acceptance. I lost my voice 14 months ago and I could no longer sing. Something that had been part of me my entire life was gone. Losing all these things, felt like I was losing me. All of this was SO hard. Then as I thought about it, I realized, I am still me. While I have had many losses, I have learned so much. I am still me and I have discovered so much about myself. I discovered that even though I can’t speak out loud, I have a voice. I can write. I am writing letters to my husband, my children, my grandchildren, others who I love, and posts to you, my sisters, who I love so much. I can no longer sing but the songs I have recorded will be there for my children and others forever. I may not get dressed anymore, but I have pictures with loved ones to last a lifetime. My arms can still reach out to hug my children and grandchildren and my hugs and smile comforts them. I am able to share experiences and comfort those who are grieving and missing me already. I may not do all the things I did, but I am leaving a legacy for my loved ones that will never die. When we constantly look back, we get stuck in frustration, anger and fear. We cannot change the past, nor can we change our ultimate prognosis, but we can look forward and make our life what we want it to be. You will always be you. You may not be what you physically were, but you will always be who you are inside. Don’t ever let that go
Much love, Annette
Palliative Care, Hospice Care:
When I was first
diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer my insurance company sent me a letter
saying I qualified for palliative care and they would pay for it. A palliative
care doctor can help a person with a serious, chronic illness. They also help
people with a terminal illness through the process of dying. Palliative care
can help patients and their families make the transition from treatment to
hospice care by preparing them for physical changes that may occur near the end
of life, helping them cope with the different thoughts and emotional and
spiritual issues that arise. They also coordinate care between various doctors
the patient is seeing along the way. This is simplifying it greatly. All this
would have been very helpful for me throughout the difficulties I have
experienced over the past 18 months but palliative care isn’t offered in
Southeast Idaho.
The past few weeks I
have felt that my time is getting shorter and I have felt very emotional and
have had many feelings and emotions that I didn’t understand. I have sought the
Lord frequently and pondered much, not sure what it all meant. Why was I moved
to tears all the time? Why was I revisiting childhood things like happy
memories, needing to go places I went as a child, visiting the place I was
born, being sad knowing I was seeing people for the last time, thinking of
things I needed to make sure I said or did that would be meaningful to
different people. I’m a very social person but I found I really didn’t want to
be around a lot of people. These are just a few examples. There were so many
thoughts and feelings. I also felt closer and closer to my Heavenly Father in
ways I didn’t know were possible. I felt those on the other side very close to
me. I didn’t however feel that I was going to die right away. It’s been very
hard physically but I kept thinking maybe it wasn’t the cancer. Maybe I just
had an upper respiratory infection or something. (A little denial?) Was this
all normal? What was wrong with me? My faith had not diminished at all. I know
this is Heavenly Father’s plan for me. I did not doubt. I continued to accept
it with my whole heart. My testimony was firm. None of that had changed, so
what was wrong with me? If I had a palliative care doctor available to me they
could have helped me with all of this.
Friday morning we
were flying out of Boston going to Salt Lake. We were on a non-stop flight that
left at 6:20 AM and lasted 5 hours and 50 minutes. A man sat next to me. I
asked if he had been in Boston on business. He said he had. I asked what he
did. He said he was a doctor. I asked what kind. He said he was a palliative
care doctor. I about jumped for joy! I exclaimed, “You are?!” He said he was
surprised I knew what that was because most people don’t. I told him I did and
that I was so happy to hear he was that kind of doctor. I told him about
meeting the palliative care doctor who helped when my father died and how
wonderful he was. Then I told him about my situation and we talked for 4 hours
about my feelings, emotions and thoughts. He shared so many insights with me
and assured me I’m normal. He said I’m right in my feelings that it’s getting
closer but not yet and that all the things I’m feeling are things people at the
point I’m at feel. He said I’d know when it was close, as in weeks, and when it
was time. He talked to me about hospice and how that could benefit me now since
there is no palliative care here. He felt I should go with hospice now as I was
no longer pursuing treatment and the latest scans had showed so much
progression where I’d been stable for the past 15 months. He explained how
hospice could benefit me even though I’m not dying right away. He answered
every single question I had and then some. He gave me his card so I would have
his email. He gave me a website that would provide additional information. He
was so kind and compassionate. I thanked him for the difference he made in my
life. He got off the plane before we did as we had to wait for my wheelchair,
which I only use to get through airports because it’s so far to walk. I didn’t
think I’d ever see him again. When we got to the top of the ramp he was waiting
for me. He said he wanted to make sure I knew that he wanted me to email him if
I needed anything or had any questions. This was no coincidence. What are the
odds that that man would sit next to me, on a non-stop flight, giving us that
much time to talk, who happened to be not just any doctor, but a palliative
care doctor, working as the head of palliative care at Stanford medical center
no less. These are no odds. This was orchestrated by a loving Heavenly Father
who knew what I needed way before I did. Since palliative care was not available
to me, He brought it to me on an airplane in Boston at 6:00 in the morning.
The rest of the
story: I emailed the doctor over the weekend because the link he gave me didn’t
work. Monday morning I received an E-mail from Dr. Fronk, the doctor I met on
the plane. As I looked at the credentials on the email they read: Dr. Joshua
Fronk Clinical Professor Palliative Care Stanford University Department of
Medicine Medical Director, Oncology Palliative Care, Stanford Health Care
Medical Center. Not just palliative care, ONCOLOGY palliative care. Could
Heavenly Father get any more specific?
I began interviewing hospice agencies when I got home. Ten
days later I was in a wheelchair when we went places, and had difficulty
getting around my house; something I never expected. I had difficulty breathing
and couldn’t do simple tasks like stirring a pot on the stove, or fixing my
hair. I went on hospice then. Within a month I couldn’t get around my house,
shower, or dress myself. I was supposed to meet Dr. Fronk. He prepared me for
hospice. I would never have thought of hospice without talking to him. I am so
grateful for that experience. There are no words to describe the love I feel
from my Heavenly Father. I have felt enveloped in His arms in ways I never have
before. He truly is aware of all of our needs and longs to bless us. We are
never alone. While I am going home, He is gently carrying me in His arms.
In ancient times, hospice was a place for weary travelers. It is the same today. I wanted to share my experience with hospice. There are many misconceptions about this wonderful service. We often think of hospice as an agency we call in the last weeks or days of our lives, but when we do we miss so much. Hospice is available much sooner than that. Hospice isn’t just hospital beds and morphine. Hospice doesn’t just help us die, it helps us live. Often people do better on hospice. I went on hospice in October. I took a trip, I enjoy my family, I go to church, I did as much as I could while I could. I’m not in a hospital bed yet and I choose when I am ready for the next step whatever that is. When I feel I need something it is provided. I needed a narrow wheelchair to get down hallways and in doorways in my house and hospice brought it. I needed a bedside commode and they brought it. I could no longer stand to do my hair or brush my teeth so they brought a shower chair to put in front of my bathroom vanity. Everything they do is comfort care. Hospice is appropriate when you are no longer in treatment. When you are on hospice you no longer have scans, or anything diagnostic. This was difficult for me at first because we are so geared to wanting to know exactly what is happening, but when you think about it, does it really matter? If you aren’t going to do treatment, what would a scan change? What hospice did for me was give me relief. I no longer go to doctor appointments. I don’t go to cardiology appointments, diabetic appointments, PCP appointments, or any other appointments. My hospice doctor and nurse handle everything. They come to me. They have a social worker who is available to me and to any members of my family. She is wonderful! I visit with her regularly. An aide comes 3 days a week. She does anything I need. My husband showers me, and dresses me, but she would if I wanted. She does my hair, changes sheets, makes my bed, does laundry, cleans, rubs lotion in my feet, she does whatever needs doing. I am SO grateful for her! The nurse comes twice a week. He is also wonderful. I could have a female nurse if I wanted but this nurse is so sensitive to my needs and I wouldn’t change for anything. Hospice can help you live! Being on hospice sooner rather than later will help you know your caregivers and feel comfortable with them. This is imperative to me. Dying is such a personal experience and I don’t want to share it with a stranger. I want to share it with people who know me and love me, and my hospice caregivers do.
Much love, Annette
Choosing Wisely:
This morning I
was lying in bed feeling sorry for myself. I was crying and feeling very sad.
Breathing is getting harder. I am in pain. My daily routine is quite boring. I
get up around 10:00. My husband showers me and gets me dressed. My aide does my
hair, gets my breakfast; wheels me in the living room and I get seated on the
couch. I work on the computer working on posts, compiling the posts into a
book, writing letters, etc. After about 2 hours I’m ready for a nap. I wake up
after 2 to 3 hours. I usually have visitors or the hospice nurse or social
worker. After a couple hours I’m ready for a nap. I sleep 2 to 3 hours. I wake
up and it’s time for dinner. I eat a small dinner and I watch Jeopardy and
Wheel of Fortune with my husband because that’s important to him. We spend the
evening together usually watching a movie or talking. Then I’m back to bed. So
this morning I was feeling sorry for myself, thinking of all the things I used
to do. My life is nothing like it used to be. Then I got ready for the day. My
attitude changed and everything looked different. I realized I could look at it
from a whole new light. I have daily maid service, laundry service, a daily
chef, a chauffeur, valet service, personal hair dresser, everyone comes as soon
as I ring a bell since I have no voice and can’t call them, people get anything
I want any time I want, I don’t have to eat anything I don’t want to, I can eat
anything I want anytime I want, I don’t have to cook, clean, sweep, mop, or do
dishes. I can take a nap anytime I feel like it. I am living the life! I have
nothing to complain about!
I realize this is
rather facetious and I am making light of things. However, I just can’t drown
in self- pity all the time. I can’t climb in that black hole of depression and
negativity and stay there. There are times I cry and that is appropriate. This
disease is hard. There are many losses. Our lives are forever changed and we
will never be the same. We will find ourselves crying many times. We mourn our
losses each time we lose another part of us. There is nothing wrong with that.
I often say, “My feelings are leaking out my eyes”. The problem comes when we
stay there. When we become entrenched in self-pity, climb down that black hole
of depression and negativity and don’t move on, it becomes unhealthy. We have a
choice in how we deal with our disease. We can continually feel sorry for
ourselves and stay in a black hole that gets deeper and deeper, or we can
choose to take a short time to grieve every now and then and then take a deep
breath and choose to live. I don’t mean to offend anyone. I know it’s terribly
hard. We need to grieve. I’m not suggesting we stuff it inside. Just don’t stay
there. Find the joy in your life. “Attitude is a choice. Happiness is a choice.
Optimism is a choice. Kindness is a choice. Giving is a choice. Respect is a
choice. Whatever choice you make makes you. Choose wisely.” ― Roy T. Bennett,
The Light in the Heart
Much love, Annette
Getting Worse
June 12, 2019
I am growing ever more weary. My thighs are beginning to atrophy because I sit and lay so much. It feels like they are burning at times. I am sleeping so much and am so tired all the time. I have a hard time visiting much. I prefer not to except for very special people and then not for very long. I don’t have much to say; it’s too much of an effort. I haven’t been able to answer posts much because it’s just too much. I’m sorry about that. I love you all more than I could ever say. You have given me strength, been my sisters and my support. God has been so good to me and He is calling me home. I don’t know the day, but I know it is coming and I need to rest and be ready. You are all so special, and as I have written over the past months I have developed such a great love for you. You are all amazing women who lift and strengthen me and you do that for each other. Please continue to look up, to find something to be grateful for, and there’s always something to be grateful for. Today I was grateful for my portable potty next to my bed so I could go to potty in the night by myself. Find peace with your situation; choose happiness. Your attitude makes a difference. Remember, Trials in life are mandatory, misery is optional. I am dying my way and I am not afraid. I chose my path and I have no regrets. I am at peace. Mike will be beside me, where he belongs. I want to share one last song with you that my daughter Rachel and I recorded- https://drive.google.com/open?id=17LfNUuGemokO6IkPYu9eDi8c-igRyvlJ
Much love, Annette
Preparing To Leave:
As I have prepared to leave those I love, I thought carefully about what I could leave them that would be meaningful and loving gifts. I would like to share some of those with you. First, I wanted my dear husband to know how much he is loved after I am gone. I knew he would be lonely and there would be many firsts. A pharmacy was going out of business and all there greeting cards were 25 cents. I bought Birthday, Valentine’s Day, Anniversary, Father’s Day, and Christmas cards, enough for 3 years for my husband. I wrote in each one and put a different picture of us together in each one. They are organized by holiday and numbered according to which year I wanted them to be given. I gave the box to my daughter so she can give them to him at the appropriate times. There is a card to be given to him the day I pass away. If he marries before the three years are up, she is to give them all to him before he is married. I had necklaces made for my 4 daughters. I ordered them from an Etsy Shop. I sent in a note in my handwriting and had it engraved in sterling silver hearts. It was two sided. It read, “Forever and Always Love, Mom” I gave them for Christmas this year and they loved them. Every year I give my unmarried kids a Christmas ornament so I had one engraved through an Etsy shop for my 2 boys, Noah and Caleb. Caleb’s had a saying I always said when he left the house as he was growing up. Noah’s said, Noah, I love you always and forever, Love, Mom. I gave them to my boys for Christmas and my boys loved them. I had my antique men’s rocker refinished for my oldest son. It had a lot of meaning for him and I will give it to him for his birthday this weekend. I am working on something for my other son. I made personalized books for each of my grandchildren. They include my testimony of Christ, memories and pictures of me with that grandchild, and a letter to that grandchild. They are hardbound books through Snapfish . They are a lot of work and we are still finishing them, but they will be so worth it! I am close to all my grandchildren and these will be treasures. I have written a letter for each of my children. I was only able to write one of these each day. They were very emotional and left me exhausted. It was more important than anything else important though. These letters will take my children through the rest of their lives without me. What I say to them now in these letters will be all they have when I’m not there to give counsel or comfort, advice, love, or anything else they might need or want. I have been an integral part of their lives their whole lives. These letters could not be written in a hurry. I love the fall leaves and this fall we went to New England to watch the leaves turn. I bought real maple leaf necklaces dipped in gold and copper for my mother and sisters as a reminder of me. I gave it to them with the video, The Last Leaf. It had special meaning. Experiences with me were very important to my son Caleb. I gathered pictures of the things we had done together in 2018 and had a collage made of them on canvas and gave it to him for Christmas. He loved it! There are so many personal things we can do for those we love that can be special remembrances for them. We have the opportunity and time to do these things. I’m glad I started early. I have such a large family I had to, but we should all start early. We never know when we might take a turn for the worse. One of our sisters woke up one morning paralyzed from her abdomen down to her toes. We are guaranteed nothing. Start doing what you want to or need to now. You will find joy in doing these things. I have found excitement in knowing the joy my family feels receiving the gifts I have for them. They will not get the cards, letters, or books, until I am gone, but I know they know, and will know forever, I thought of them and I love them.
Much love, Annette
Adieu :
One of our community members shared :
I wanted to share this beautiful post I received from Annette Danes Hiatt's daughter
"Wanted to let you know that Annette Danes Hiatt passed away on July 3 at about 1 pm MDT. She slipped away ever so peacefully and in a style that was truly Annette after defying the odds for so long. On July 2nd in the afternoon we met with her nurse and substitute nurse and they suggested she likely had another 1-3 weeks. By the next day at noon the nurse believed that based on her current condition she would have 2 to 4 days before passing. One hour later I had not seen her breathing like she had been so I called the nurse who returned and confirmed that she had passed. Absolute shock! The one thing that I am pretty sure of is she had the 2 people in the room that she most wanted to be there. It was a very peaceful passing. While I know that she has passed and her life is complete, I wanted to continue with Annette’s journey because we had talked about many of the things I am writing about because these are things that you will want to talk about with your loved ones. Please know that this is a labor of love because writing is very difficult for me. Letting Go Today is July 4th. A day we celebrate our “letting go” from England. Letting go is important in the dying process. Once you reach that juncture there is no turning back. Once we made the decision to go on morphine we knew that things would change. We did not know how even little things would change. We both felt that she was ready to cross over but we knew that her ties to this life were very strong. We just had the sense that we had to reduce the ties to this life a little more to move forward. That is harder than you think. When in daily life something would happen sometimes, if she was alert, she would want to know what happened and then she would feel the need to fix it. For example, our son was unhappy about something, which he verbalized moderately. Annette woke up and asked if there had been a fight. My neighbor who was there assured her that things were fine, which was followed up with some pleasant laughter by several people. Her body physically relaxed. We realized that every time that happened she would strengthen her ties to this world and prolong her suffering. We started taking care of business out of earshot. As another example I had been talking to the nurse about my growing up years. I paused for a breath and she shared the next several sentences about my life without skipping a beat or opening her eyes or moving which shocked us both. I realized at that time that we could not have even a simple conversation in there because she would want to engage with this life again. Should we leave her in there alone? The answer is a resounding “NO.” As I mentioned my previous experience that she got out of bed and was looking for me. I believe that she was afraid of being or dying alone. After that moment someone was with her at all times. We couldn’t leave her alone for more than a few minutes to run to the next room and get something and get back. It was very draining, but we loved her enough to protect her from herself at times. We loved her enough to not let her be alone. After a number of experiences our hospice nurse brought two booklets. One was very useful called, The Eleventh Hour by Barbara Karnes RN. This re-enforced what we had sensed and gave us more directions based on experience and research. We worked very hard to have someone close at all times, which meant things like dishes and laundry get set to the back burner. This does not make you a burden. It makes this a unique opportunity to serve someone you love deeply and in a way that is specific to you. When I refer to we I am consulting with other caregivers, or nurses, or aides, or anyone that knows her and finally this booklet. After all, how many of your caregivers have done this before without being paid? Once Annette was on morphine we reduced the number of visitors and the time that they could visit. What few we allowed had to be guided in what they could talk about. Remember that she is trying to learn how to die. We would ask visitors to thank her for what she has done for them, say that they will miss her, and then remind her that she has a great work to do on the other side and that she is needed there and that we are handling things here just fine. Again, referring to the book, we discouraged any other discussions of what was happening now, any unfinished business, and any questions that would cause her to have to recall her life on this earth and make her think about it where she would need to be more fully present. We remembered that she always wanted her 8 children around her as she died. Due to children and grandchildren coming in from all parts of the world we could only find a few minutes where the 9 of us could surround her bed. She loved music so we decided to sing songs. We had one son who had made his peace with his mother and did not want to do this. I said the other meeting was for you, this is for your mother. We worried that her love and concern for her family would keep her tied to this earth and felt like if she saw and felt us unified then she would feel the permission to leave. As she became aware that we were all there together and unified her eyes lit up and she smiled the biggest smile. We sang, we shared affirmations that what she did as a wife and mother were good things and that our lives were better because she was in them. We also had a family prayer, which was a common thing for us to do as they were growing up. My son said afterward, “ Seeing her smile was so very priceless and that he would always remember that. She communicated in the only way she could physically do at the time. The message was received. We then suggested that her mom and 3 sisters do the same thing. So they traveled in and took turns sitting with her. They have always had a powerful influence on her and we thought that if they gave her permission to go then she might feel less connected here and drawn more to the other side. Once they had their time with her they got real chatty so they went to a local restaurant to visit for the next 2 hours. They came back with much closure. While the number of visitors slowed, they still came. (She is beloved by many as you can imagine.) We did learn that these visitors could help. The first thing they would do is introduce themselves i.e. “Hey Annette this is Maggie.” We would also have them touch her arm or head. One drove all the way from California to say goodbye to Annette. At this point she was not able to say much, but they both had a rich experience as they hugged and said their “I love yous.” Most visits were short, but long enough to communicate their love and appreciation of their relationship and encouragement to go to the other side. Her last visitor talked to her in the way he always did. She squeezed his hand. I believe that these contacts are valuable because Annette could feel the job-well-done satisfaction and the person’s love.
Much Love, Michael"
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