A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-And-Fifty-Four

It has been a bit tough today.  To be honest, I hadn't realized that it was eight years since my father died until someone asked me earlier today.  I did try to make it a good day in the ways that I could.  Melissa and I went out to dinner with my mother and that was nice.  It wasn't as if anything particularly bad happened, and there was some stuff that I feel excited and positive about which kicked off today, but it just feels heavy.  I don't have any more that I can say about it, at least not in any way that would be more meaningful or accurate or descriptive.

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