I sat on my small bed, twirling the ring that my daddy had given me before he had left us. And by 'us', I mean me and my mom. It was a small silver ring that had surprisingly still fit my ring finger. Even though I had received this gift years ago I was still in love with it. My favorite part about it was that on the inside it had my daddy's initials engraved with a little heart next to it. I remember still when he handed me this present.
He had said,
''Here you go my little girl. Daddy is giving this to you because I'm not going to be home in awhile. When you feel sad or lonely, I want you to remember this day, and I want you to take this ring off of your finger and look on the inside. I want you to know that daddy is sorry if he never comes back, but its the only thing that daddy can do. Your mommy wants you to know that she's sorry too. I know that you're to young to know what's happening, but someday you'll understand. I love you, and I wan't you to know that no matter what, I always will love you."
And that was all I remembered, after all, I was only five years old.
I was sent away to live with my grandma in Europe, or the United Kingdom to be exact. About a month later after I was sent to Europe, my grandma had received news that my mother had passed away. My grandma had told me something about it, but she never told me why she had died, and like I said before, I was only five years old. I just thought that my grandma had meant something that my mom had finally left the hospital and was headed home. But little did I know that when my grandma said that my mom had left the hospital, she had meant for good.