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Mum reckons Dad paid her a visit. With the dog curled up in front of the fire, she had nodded off on the sofa. She woke up with a start to see Dad in the room. Quite good, considering “I don’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo”. I’d love to walk in their house and find him at work on one of his posters. It’d be a chance to say all that stuff I never got round to – even though I knew he was dying, the timing was never right. I guess it’s just the same three words I’d want to repeat and to shake his hand and tell him he did a good job. And I’d want him to pat me on the head, like Dad’s do, and tell me everything was going to be alright. Sometimes, it doesn’t always feel like it will be. Crikey, he may not have ever said a lot but I miss him.

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