My dad died the day I was born, rushing to the hospital to come see me.
He was hit by a drunk driver at roughly 9:00 PM that day. I was born at 9:06.
I sometimes think that its my fault, all my fault. I mean, if i had been born even an hour earlier,
he'd still be alive, and well, and happy.
Since the day of my birth held so many bad memories for my mom she unofficially changed my birthday a few months later.
Today is my unofficial birthday, but all I want is to meet him.
-My Thoughts For the Day.
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