As I stand here and look back on all the things that have happened to me in the past five
years, it seems like such a longer period of time. My daughter(still such an awkward word to use),
just five years old already towers over me in heighth and almost in strength; traits she inherited no
doubt from her father's side of "the family". I laugh at the thought of such things now. Family used
to mean so little to me compared to what I now possess. I belong to a group of people who while
share no mutual blood could in no way ever be deterred to coming to one another's rescue at a
moments notice; who would always be there for each other, no matter what. Or so I thought.
Now as I stand here thinking these things with imminent death staring me in the face
yet again, I wonder if anyone is ever going to rescue me.