Tale from the past

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Literature Text

December 2nd

I often wonder if I was cursed to have a perfect memory of that day. If it was cruel work of fate, or if God simply hated me and wanted me to remember, on some level it was a blessing, those last memories of my family, but most of the time I just wished them out of my brain.

I was twelve years old on that day; my family and I were putting up our Christmas decorations just like we do every year the first weekend in December. My father was getting to old to put the high ordainments on the tree so I was standing on a latter to do them. Dad had always been old, most people thought he was my grandpa instead of my dad, his hair was completely gray, and he had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, but he was my dad, he was always strong to me.

Mom on the other hand was a lot younger, her hair was still a rich brown, and she had a bright smile as she hung a wreath on the door.
Okay I found this little start of a story when I was looking through old files on my flash-drive, I remember writing this out but I honestly don't remember where I was going with this, what was the main characters name? was it a male or female? and most importantly what happened?

Should I continue this story? what do you guys think should happen? If you have any suggestions let me know
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