I remember Sundays with you, and the smell of roast beef mingling in the air with Grandad's cigar smoke.
Thank you for your rosy cheeks. You, a darts champion. Two or more competitions a week, and you wiped the floor with them every time!
I'm sad beacause my memories of you are few.
Last time I saw you, you'd dimmed the lights. I held your hand. I knew you were there and I hoped you knew that someone who loved you, had come to visit.
Before I could see you again, you had turned the lights out...
jojobee
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