I met my wife, Sandra, when we were in our thirties. She had a daughter, Daisy, from a previous marriage. Both mother and daughter were outgoing, energetic, and just plain fun to be around. Daisy’s father had died when she was seven and I often thought that might have a lot to do with her clinging to me. She liked hugs a lot. I would call her my princess, rain kisses on her forehead and she would cuddle up to me while I did her favorite thing; rubbing her back.
My w...
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