|Me and my dad on my first Christmas, 1969|
"When she thinks of her father now, she sees him at the end of the day. That's his time of day, twilight, or just before. The late afternoon, when the sun is setting, when it feels sad and beautiful, like the last day. When the sadness is too unbearable to think about, and this makes you strangely cheerful."
from I Was Amelia Earhart by Jane Mendelsohn, pg. 95
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