I don't know her.
I don't know her, I've only heard about her through dad.
I don't know her, but I like it when dad talks about her.
When he talks about her, dad gets a faraway look in his eyes.
I don't know her, but I know her favorite foods.
I don't know her, but I've heard her voice.
When I was younger, dad would show me videos of her.
I don't know her, but I know her favorite kind of weather.
I don't know her, but I know all her favorite spots.
When it's their anniversary, dad takes me to them.
I don't know her, but I know what type of ice cream she liked.
I don't know her, but I know my dad loves her even now.
When dad tells me stories about her clumsy escapades, we laugh together.
I don't know her, but I can see why my dad loves her.
I don't know her, but it feels like I do.
When my birthday comes around, so do the mixed feelings.
I don't know her, so she can't answer my questions.
I don't know her, so how do I respond when people say that they're sorry for my loss?
When she died, I was a newborn.
I don't know her, I can't bring myself to respond to them.
I don't know her, but why'd she leave dad?
Whenever someone brings her up, dad's eyes are filled with sadness.
I don't know her, but why would she leave her favorite things behind?
I don't know her, did she think there was nothing to live for?
When she fought, what made her strong?
I don't know her, but did she think of us when she fought?
I don't know her, so what made her think that there was no other choice?
When she died, did she think that she had no options left?
I don't know her, so I asked a friend.
I don't know her, but they told me that it's different for everyone.
When they told me that, I realized that I would never know what she was thinking.
I don't know her, but that's okay.
