It all started at 10:31 p.m. on February 20, 1995. My mothers name ; all I can say about her is that she was a wonderful mother for the time she was alive. I have lived with my grandparents for as long as I can remember. David and Carol Ritter are the people who make me who I am today. With out them I have no clue where I would be today. They give me everything I would possibly need or want.
When I was twelve, my mother passed away; she was very sick all her life. I remember I was asleep in bed and my poppy woke me up and told me we needed to go to Vanderbilt; whenever I hear that I always know that something is terribly wrong. It takes five hours to get to Nashville, and I swear it was the longest five hours ever. I was so scared for my mother. When we finally got to the hospital, they told us she was in ICU and room number twelve. I walked into her room; I literally walked back out and told the nurse that this was not my mom, and there I saw my step-father sitting in the corner and I just could not take it any longer. I immediately fell to the floor and started weeping. That was the saddest moment in my life. When I looked at her, she was so swollen that she looked like a blow fish. It was terrible; her eyes were swollen shut, her hands were huge, and I did not know what I could do. I just sat down beside her on her bed and told her I was here and not to worry, that everything was going to bed okay. The next day she had no improvement; I prayed to God that he would heal her and make her feel better and take me instead of her. She deserved to live more than I did. That night the doctors came and got my family and me and told us that she only had a few hours left. My heart sank as soon as those words came out. I was so scared about what I would feel or what I would do, so I went and asked the nurse for a bible and got down really close to mom’s ear and read her the Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie...