Pieces of them

 I cook rice the way my mother taught me when I was ten years old. I peel my apples before I eat them because that's how my father did it. I watch movies differently now because a friend I haven't seen in four years once told me that every scene could have an implied message, and I enjoy hearing some of 'the father jokes' just because he used to tell me the whole way home. There are songs I can't listen to anymore because they remind me of the people I used to love. We are somehow a little part of everyone we have met in our life, and even if they leave, there are some pieces of them that are still inside us; as a home, a lesson, or maybe a story worth telling - it's kind of our choice now.