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Wednesday, April 21, 2004

Today is my daughter's birthday. I hope she has a wonderful year. She is fourteen. What a great age. I loved being fourteen. Of course, I hated the fact that you didn't seem to know that I existed. But you did call. For Christmas.

I miss you.

I hope she finds someone who is even half as decent as you were. Someone who will call her, instead of his mother.

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