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A father talks to his daughter. |
| I saw your mother last night. She was young again, probably your age. It’s unusual that I dreamt of her. I try to sometimes, but when I do I can never see her face. Sometimes I can’t even see her face when I’m awake. It makes me feel so guilty. Last night I saw her face. She was so young and happy and proud. She was holding Laura, and she kept saying she couldn’t believe she was a grandma. Neither can I. I miss her. I need her. I hope she visits again tonight. |