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author

I had so much fun writing this and working with Deborah who is an incredible editor. She was able to find the throughline and structure that gave the story its power and punch.

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Beautifuly written. I was twelve when I lost my Daddy. He was my everything, he taught me all of the important things I needed to know. He never had a bad word to say about anyone. He taught by example with most things. He also taught me not to let things like racism & hate cross my doorstep. He had no idea he would not be around. He was (back then) older than most dads with kids my age but I didn’t care he was my Daddy.

Mother was his polar opposite. When I lost him so young, my sisters were already living on their own or soon after. She was hard on me (according to her sisters etc) and of course I knew it too. She was a bit racist - no not a bit a lot, she was also a southerner who still hated people from the north, people that drank alcohol, even a drink now and then. Actually she pretty much hated everyone as she worried what they thought. Growing into my teens with her was hell.

I miss Daddy to this day, even though I am older than he ever got to be.

Thank you for sharing- your mom sounds like a kind woman. 💖

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author

Thanks Pamela. Those early losses are very tough and yes, they stay with us.

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