My father Jerry Ransom Dickinson II was killed by a drunk driver on September 28, 1989. I had just turned 5 years old on the 25th. It’s been 21yrs since he was taken from this world and I never got to know him. Each year that passes, I feel the memory of him slipping further away. I don’t want to forget. I distance myself from his family due to all the alcoholism. But they treat me like I think I’m “too good”. I’m not, I just want better for my own children. I will not subject them to that. I’m very thankful for the dad who has raised me all these years. He’s been a blessing in my life. Michael, if you ever read this, I forgive you.