I Walked Out Of Prison After 27 Years And This Little Girl Was Waiting For Me

and you never told a soul she was even there. My mother told me about you every single year on your birthday. She made me write it down. She made me memorize your face from the only photograph she had.

She died last March. Cancer. She held on long enough to make me promise.

Now I’m dying too. Different cancer. Faster. By the time you read this, I’ll continue reading …