What a nice day outside.

It's the second anniversary of my father's passing. I don't know, I still haven't given up smoking, it's such an annoyance.

Don't know what flowers to get for him yet. He never really gave a toss about them, so I suppose it's whatever I think looks pretty.

Can't help but think that his memory is slipping ever so slightly from my mind. It's difficult, I never knew him that well, it has always been a distant relationship.

Alas, he has always been good to me. Even though sometimes, I think he has been a bit too cool to show it.

The last promise.

I must keep it...