Although my life’s new journey of healing as a daughter makes it hard for me to write this story, I am finally ready.
A Soldier's Whisper

Mom never spoke much about dad, when she did it was vague and not in depth of own personal feelings. She had memories of him, my daddy. He wrote a letter saying how proud he was of her to to bring the life of “me” when I born, reading the letter dated back June 1966, while he was overseas fighting during war time, and I can only imagine his Polish accent, his English writing was not that well, but good enough for me, because it was written to me, I treasure it. When I visit The Wall I bring a copy and leave it there, talk to him, it’s the only place I have.

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