My dad hasn’t been there for me my whole life. He’d come and he’d go. He’d come to some of my softball games when I was little, but every time he’d come it always ended in a fist fight. Sometimes those fights replay in the back of my head. I can see them clear as day! Don’t get me wrong, we had some good memories! Like decorating the Christmas Tree (that was mine and his thing) it was our favorite time of the year! All the snow ball fights. My homemade sled I made out of cardboard and duct tape (worked like a charm, it was the best thing ever made in our eyes). Shoveling the snow so thin it would freeze to ice and then racing each other to the bottom of the hill to see who could make it without falling.
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