You are all gone now, you and Peggy long ago, and not far apart.
Flora, too. You did not live to mourn her death. Which is just as well, because we all knew that she was the proverbial “apple of your eye”—ever since she was a little girl. I was more on the other side, my mother’s boy. Once she grew up you and Flora had a problematic, sometimes painful relationship. No one could hurt you as she did. Nor you, her. I know because she told me.
Still, that’s how it often is, fathers and daughters, mothers and sons.
And now, for a growing number of years, I’m the sole survivor of the four of us.
I do miss you, now you're gone. I miss you all…
Your son,
Peter
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