“Dear D, I can not even begin to tell you how much I wish you were here. I can't count the ti…”

Dear D, I can not even begin to tell you how much I wish you were here. I can't count the times I have wanted to ask you something or tell you something or complain all about our crazy family. Then I realize you're gone. Then I get mad. Mad at you for doing all the stuff you did. I get mad at you for stealing & lying and manipulating. Mad at you for abandoning your son so you could have your men & drugs. Furious at you for going to prison but more so for coming home & exposing him to your world. Teaching him what you knew & sending him down your game path. I am mad that you came home again and instead of being his mom you partied with him. Then you died. Not an accident or illness but your own selfish needs. You OD with your son there. Our family is ruined because of it & I'm mad But I still miss you & Love you. Love, N

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