March 8, 1999 started out to be a great day. I dropped you off at your gf house and I was on my way to San Diego. Your last words to me were I love you lots momma and don't forget to make it back for my basketball game. March 9,1999 was the worst day of my life I felt something bad all day and then that evening your Uncle called me to tell me you had been shot and the doctors said you were not going to make it. All I could think about on the drive to Yuma was maybe there was a mistake maybe it wasn't that bad. When I pulled up into the parking lot of the hospital and saw all my family and some of your friends there I knew it was really bad and that my brother was right. I don't remember half of what was said to me next or how long I stood there and looked at you in disbelief but the next thing I knew we were in a plane on our way to the Phoenix hospital. Me your Aunt and my Comadre Linda sat by your side watching you and praying but the doctor said you were 99% brain dead and you would never recover. We sat there until you took your last breathe which was at midnight on March 11,1999. I miss you everyday and I will for the rest of my life.