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I gave Michael tapes and CDs since we first met (his favorite was when I danced in my seat in the car to Walking on Sunshine, it would crack him up). After he passed I found not only the original tapes and CDs but copies he had made. They meant much more to him than I ever knew. No one had ever made him a “mix” tape before and the first one thrilled him. The very last one I ever sent him was just a CD with Michael Buble’s “Home” on it when we were living apart because he was trying to sell the house in Texas. He had like 12 copies of it in his things when I went through them.

He didn’t know how to make mix tapes or CDs. He couldn’t remember the name of a song or who sang it or how to put it altogether on a tape (or later, a CD) but would say to me, “This song reminds me of you/us.” I used to say “I get my mix tape one song at a time.”
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