April 19th is here.
Lucy's day.
I love Lucy.
I know I wrote it last week.
So.
She's my daughter.
She's the girl that brought joy to our lives.
She brought hope to our family.
She still brings it.
She's 15--halfway to old, she says.
The year of the "permit."
I'm scared of her growing up.
I know what's out there.
Not a lot of joy or hope.
She'll need to carry it wherever she goes.
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