Dear Diary,
I remember when dad would eat with me, play with me and do his Dougie with me. We would fish and fish till our skin turned red from the sun.
He would always work on machines, engines and anything that moved or operated, maybe that's why he worked on submarines.
I remember when dad was still here.
When we would go to the beach together, but now when I see the sandy beach all I can think about is how these were where his last steps were in the early June mourning in 44.
He said he would always come back.
So until then, I love you Daddy.
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