Dear Woan,
It's been a year since we last spoke. A year since I massaged your feet as you lay in bed. A year since you called me "cher."
We miss you terribly and the pain of losing you has come flooding back lately but as Lyan reminds me that we will be with you again one day. That comforts me, and serves as a wake-up call that I should appreciate my loved ones here every day, because I won't be here forever either. It's love that lives on when we're gone.
Well, Woan, I'm sure you're happy up there in heaven, where things are beautiful. You're a smart girl, learning to play the piano on your own, living on your own all the way in Seremban and Terengganu. ;) I shall recall our memories together, when we were growing up in Baling, in Butterworth, and share them with Kayrin and Ivan. She loves to hear stories of when we were kids. I haven't been telling Ivan but I'll do that starting now. That's all for now, we'll talk again, Woan. I miss you so much.
Cher
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