On September 25, 2013 my mother was murdered by my father and then my father killed himself.
A few months later, my cousin saw me at school and told me she had something to give me. She handed me a heavy folder, gave me a hug and returned to class. Inside were care plans she did in nursing school, and this pouch with a key. I opened it and it said the word strength. I started crying and walked back to my dorm. I kept it at school and hung it above my bed, but then when I went home for winter break, I brought it home. I now lived with my grandparents, but my poppop's health was deteriorating. On January 20th, he passed away.
I don't think he would have passed away if we didn't lose my mom. So now it's just me and my grandmom. On Valentine's Day I came home from school to buy her sugar free chocolates, a balloon, and a card because I knew she was going to be lonely (I know what lonely feels like). But I also gave her the key, because I knew that above anyone, including me, she doesn't deserve to lose her daughter and her husband. No one does, but she's been my rock and my strength since everything has happened these past six months, that I knew that she needed the key.
But now, instead of wearing it, we keep it above hanging against the wall, until we find some one who needs it as much as we do.
