This is a love letter to my firstborn son, Ethan.
Back when he was born, he gave me so much joy. Me and his mother always had problems so we had split up only a couple of weeks after his birth.
Clearly at that time in my life, I was out on the streets- selling drugs out on the streets of the Bronx. I could have never taken care of him. I was so saddened to find out when him and his mother moved to Arkansas.
For years, I’ve been trying my hardest, flying down from state to state to see my boy. His stubborn mother refused to let me see him every time I tried, wasting my money and time.
This morning at 4 am, he passed away from heart disease. I’m still in a state of shock after I was given the news by his mother. We can only hope that he’s in a better place now.
Now, I don’t blame his mother for this, this is my fault for choosing this life of crime. But she took my son away from me. My son is dead. I never got to see my son grow up. I didn’t even get to see him as a toddler. And now you’re telling me he’s dead?
Backflash456
what a sad brother