It brings me great sadness that our paths barely cross – and when they do there is so many things missing that shouldn’t be – respect, trust, honesty. Even though I’m twenty-five, I still remember the day when I sat on the bed and you asked who I wanted to live with – you or Dad. I don’t remember much, but I remember choosing ‘Dad’, knowing that it meant you were leaving. I remember you visiting me at school, you came to say goodbye and I cried a lot. I didn’t understand the magnitude then, of what it means when a mother leaves her child. I didn’t understand then of all the things I’d miss out on as I grew older – what I’d miss out on as a grown woman. You weren’t there on Christmas morning, and you weren’t there to sing Happy Birthday.