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Daddy's girl

Feeling immensely loved and blessed, as always. =) i'm a pretty lucky person i must say. nothing speaks love more than when my dad asks if i want food, and despite my resistance, goes downstairs and buys up 2 loafs of bread of different flavours (because he doesn't know what i like- but they are both my favourite flavours though. =)) and when he makes coffee for me, and brings in an extra cup of hot water, because he doesn't know how sweet i like my coffee. all for a daughter who gets too obssessed to leave her room when working. thanks for the thoughtfulness daddy. =)

and this made me think back to a night a few days back, as my mum sobbed and unleashed her frustrations on me, for lack of a better avenue. Despite the mildly unjustified scoldings, I'm glad that she did let it all out. And glad, in a way, that my late coming gave her a good trigger to break down her defences. One thing she said that night struck me hard, (about my granddad) "he's not your father, of course you don't feel the heartache." Not that i really don't feel the heartache, but i do reckon that i don't feel even a third of your pain. (but still, i must say, that hurts ok ma.) But yes, daddy's girls will always be daddy's girls. 

sk

when death stares you in the face, there's no where to run. face it; take what you still can, rather than wait for the end. because each day is a day gained, and not a day less. a little premature i know, but i do sincerely hope that when i'm on my way to my own end, i'll remember this, and i'll still be smiling my favourite smile for all my favourite people, everyday to the very end. 

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