I went into my bedroom looking around Angela loved playing with mommys makeup it is spread all over the kitchen counter. My bare feet are cold on this linolium floor. My best shoes are fallen over on the floor. There are too many memories. This house still smells like the children I can hear their voices  as I walk down the hallway. I can see the crayon where Angela was "decorateing" she was so creative. It has been so long three years goes by like a light. I dont know if I could stand this house sometimes I feel that I should move.