Rene Dugas

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@WWG1WGA_QQ Kick them out of America!!)

[Leading Report @LeadingReport]

BREAKING: Election expert claims 25% of all the 2020 Maricopa County, AZ mail-in-ballots have no signature match, meaning 420,987 ballots out of 1.9 million are fraudulent, invalid and illegal.

[Mango Dad @RealMangoDad]

@LeadingReport I bet that breaks a lot of peoples hearts. I think he should be able to run, it definitely seems like he is being targeted by fake prosecutions. What are your thoughts?

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@RealMangoDad @LeadingReport Yep!

[🇺🇸 AngliCo 🇺🇸 @AngliCo_DFA]

@RpsAgainstTrump

[H.f.t @ed_gera8]

@RpsAgainstTrump

[Captain Dominic Omondi @CaptainDominicO]

@RpsAgainstTrump We Africans are with Donald Trump, he was against world war, and the best leader the US and the world could get. They are framing him because they fear his numbers. We are many.

[Brigitte Gabriel @ACTBrigitte]

Do you agree with Kari Lake?

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@ACTBrigitte Yep!

[Laugh Alchemy @LaughAlchemy]

@simonateba Now i want his mean tweets back on X 😂

[bob jernigan @bobjernigan7]

REFLECTION
"My parents were married for 55 years. One morning, my mom was going downstairs to make dad breakfast, she had a heart attack and fell. My father picked her up as best he could and almost dragged her into the truck. At full speed , without respecting traffic lights, he drove her to the hospital.
When he arrived, unfortunately she was no longer with us.
During the funeral, my father did not speak; his gaze was lost. He hardly cried.
That night, his children joined him. In an atmosphere of pain and nostalgia, we remembered beautiful anecdotes and he asked my brother, a theologian, to tell him where Mom would be at that moment. My brother began to talk about life after death, and guesses as to how and where she would be.
My father listened carefully. Suddenly he asked us to take him to the cemetery.
Dad!" we replied, "it's 11 at night, we can't go to the cemetery right now!"
He raised his voice, and with a glazed look he said:
"Don't argue with me, please don't argue with the man who just lost his wife of 55 years."
There was a moment of respectful silence, we didn't argue anymore. We went to the cemetery, we asked the night watchman for permission. With a flashlight we reached the tomb. My father caressed her, prayed and told his children, who watched the scene moved:
"It was 55 years... you know? No one can talk about true love if they have no idea what it's like to share life with a woman."
He paused and wiped his face. "She and I, we were together in that crisis. I changed jobs ..." he continued. "We packed up when we sold the house and moved out of town. We shared the joy of seeing our children finish their careers, we mourned the departure of loved ones side by side, we prayed together in the waiting room of some hospitals, we support each other in pain, we hug each Christmas, and we forgive our mistakes... Children, now it's gone, and I'm happy, do you know why?
Because she left before me. She didn't have to go through the agony and pain of burying me, of being left alone after my departure. I will be the one to go through that, and I thank God. I love her so much that I wouldn't have liked her to suffer..."
When my father finished speaking, my brothers and I had tears streaming down our faces. We hugged him, and he comforted us, "It's okay, we can go home, it's been a good day."
That night I understood what true love is; It is far from romanticism, it does not have much to do with eroticism, or with sex, rather it is linked to work, to complement, to care and, above all, to the true love that two really committed people profess ".
Peace in your hearts.
📷Unknown

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@ChuckCallesto How easily they forget.

[Gr8fulNurse 𝕏 @Gr8fulSusan]

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'
'Oh, you're such a good boy,’ she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive
through downtown?'
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..
'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.’
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice.. ‘The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said.
'You have to make a living,' she answered.
'There are other passengers,' I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life..
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~ THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
🙏🏼🥰✝️

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@Skeeter_Couick @AmbWarsame @simonateba @WhiteHouse @DonaldJTrumpJr He forgot.

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@Nonna0541634951 @AmbWarsame @simonateba @WhiteHouse @DonaldJTrumpJr Not so good

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@Jg40851122 @dopesabound @jwcreighton3 @TomFitton Then go to Germany.

[Rene Dugas @ReneDugas1]

@ShephardRogue @kylenabecker That’s why she will not sing for Biden.

[Steve Wilson @wilstv]

@RepTroyNehls We need answers and you guys can ask the questions.
Quit talking about it and be about it!