The first time I had to dig through the belongings of a loved one was when my uncle had to move into a nursing home. He and my aunt had sold their long-time home a number of years before, and moved out to their birth-state to be us, their only family. After my aunt died, my uncle continued on in their lovely apartment for a number of years, with the help of my parents and an in-home agency. However, after a particularly devastating stroke, it was obvious that my uncle needed 24-hour care that only a nursing home could provide.
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