Okay, so not sure where to start. But I guess this is a story of determination. The story of love, sadness, and the story of nobility. It all starts at the birth of a child. You see in my community, the black community, fathers aren't very prevalent, or visible I should say. I did not want to become that statistic. I only have one child, a girl, she is now seven. I had my first child and only child when I was 30. I took that long because I felt that I wanted to be able to be the best parent my child could ever have. And I'm sure many parents feel the same. I, on the other hand, was raised only by my father. A little bit by my mother, who was there for a time when I was younger. At the age of seven I was sent to my father. I stayed with my father until my mother passed when I turn 16. My oldest brother however was able to stay with mom. And of course I got visits every now and then every summer to my mother prior to her passing. I was never told that she had cancer I was just told that she died. My only comfort at the time when I receive that information was my best friend and my Nintendo. Can I say father was a comfort? Not necessarily. As a child and at that age I held it against him the reason why I was not around my mother before she passed. But I know that's not fair but I was a child then. But that's neither here nor there.