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The woman who raised my sister's husband died this evening at the age of 88. She was crotchety as hell but she loved Chris, my sister and especially their kids.
Chris' mother was a devout Catholic who chose to have him rather than get lifesaving medical treatment. She died shortly after Chris was born and Ella was hired by his dad to help care for him. To call her a nanny wouldn't do justice to the sacrifices she made in almost single-handedly raising someone else's child.
She raised a good man and I can think of no better tribute to her than that.
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