There is a story in today's SF Chronicle Magazine about a man whose wife died last year. She was also the mother of two little boys six and four years old. Despite the lame (and misleading) title, the story is actually about how his wife had created a community and how this man is able to lean on those folks for help with raising his kids and keeping his life together.
My brother and I were those two little kids in 1974 when our father died. People stepped in to help with us, too. We didn't know that they were helping Mom; they were just there.
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