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The Day Dad Died
I still remember this as if it was yesterday, although it also seems as if it happened in another lifetime to another person.
It was February 6th 1962, I was 13 and my brother was 10. My Mum and Dad were happily married and so very much in love, we had loving grandparents in fact all I remember of my younger days was that there was always plenty of love around. We were a tactile family so kissing and hugging was part of everyday life.
My Mum and Dad were really great people they were both Leos so there were plenty of arguments but they always made up so my br...
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