Each week, like clockwork, a letter from my Dad arrives in the post. It is like Christmas when I see that blue, red and white striped top of the air mail envelope. His letters are filled with the weather (of course), what's going on in Newcastle and the Bay, and what he's been up to that week.
I keep in touch with the rest of the family via email and skype, but there is something comforting about my growing collection of letters from home.
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