It was a deserted Sunday morning, in a room full of mournful thoughts. After all we had lost our dad. I had to be strong, not for me but for everyone. I turned the kettle on, took a cup, I then remembered the method my dad taught me which. Teabag first, sugar and milk, then WATER! We used to scream as though we were singing the national anthem. Method is key I murmured as I sipped my tea. The tea warm as a mother’s love slowly touched my heart with warmth and love. I am at peace my baby girl.

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