Sometimes I begin to forget how life use to be,
and have to go through the box that holds our memories.
Memories of when you and mom didn't fight,
and all of us lived under one roof.
When there wasn't two of every holiday,
and no stepmoms or stepdads.
Even though I was little I still remember the day you left,
and mom didn't cry cause she knew it was coming.
I can't help but to think of how things could have been different,
and how it would feel to still love you dad.
