"my shoes or should i say my shoe".
August 22 2009, it’s hardest for me to accept the death of my father because before that fight we were so close. I don’t talk very much since my dad has died and it is starting to concern Grandma. I sat down at the mesa, tabla stirring my cornflakes, thinking about what I had dicho to dad. Grandma came and sat siguiente to me, she dicho “are tu okay A.J”? Trying not to cry I snapped back “please don’t call me THAT anymore”. Grandma dicho “look at me” just looking at her I broke down crying. She looked at me and I broke down and started to cry. She hugged me and dicho “I was wondering...
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