In the last three years, I took care of Angel very well. Through those early days, I always made sure that she had a bottle or was warm or had on clean diapers. You know, it was weird, but in a way, she didn't have to cry to tell me that she needed something. Deep down, or by some sixth sense, I always knew that she needed something. She grew up very healthy and happy. I always made time to play with her and make her smile and laugh. And she did. I always enjoyed her little giggling, though many times, that giggling wasn't happiness but really gas. But, when she was happy, I felt it in my heart.

All those moments in a young child's life that some parents take for granted, I never did. I was so proud of her and felt so much joy when she did things like take her first step. And, the day she said her first word was sweet, not just because she spoke, but it's wasn't just one word. And, it was unexpected, because she was only 18 months old.

I was holding her and bouncing her on my knee, listening to her giggle and squeal and talk her baby-talk. Then, getting a little tired, I stopped and brought her close to me, gently pressing her head to my chest, so she could hear my heart beating. I felt so comfortable with Angel close to me, I just blurted out, "I love you, Angel." ......(cont)