The country I'm in is not all that great, not that bad either. My daughter, my only child says I'll get used to it; that I don't think is true. I will write while here for here I will dwell till my days are done. I'm sick and so will write what I can in the time that remains for me. My
daughter's taking care of me. She's married to a jobless man. Her two daughters, my
grand-daughters adore him. I don't.
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