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Today, we should have been welcoming you to 90, a score you passed so many times and made look so easy. I should have been calling to say, “Happy birthday, Sir Garry,” and listening to that unmistakable laugh. Instead, on the eve of your final journey, I find myself trying to say farewell. This embrace now holds a goodbye I did not know I was giving. My heart aches, my friend. Barbados was never going to be ready to let you go. Happy 90th birthday, Sir Garry. Tomorrow, a grateful nation will carry you home.
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