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A SOLDIER’S DAUGHTER

I was young about 7 when I walked in on my mum and auntie discussing my dads WW11 time in Burma.

They were unaware of my presence until I said “Was my daddy a soldier”. This seemed to unnerve my auntie and she begged me not to ask my dad for details.

At that moment my child’s brain came up with this: That was why my dad had such sad eyes and that was why God sent me to this family, it was my purpose to make him smile and be happy again.

As an adult I would visit him on holidays and on my last day he would stay in the armchair with his dog, holding back his tears.