I bring that ring with me everywhere I go. I wear it while working, eating, and even while I'm sleeping. I never take it off. When I visit my mother, I always polish it until it shines as bright as the sun, so she will always know that I remember him. She is slowly getting worse everyday. Sitting in the hospital is driving her insane because she feels alone. Everyday I go to visit her in her room, tell her I love her, and talk about my father. He was a great man. We both loved him so much and were so sad when we lost him. Three weeks later, I was at work when the hospital called me. My mother was almost gone and wanted to see me one last time. I walked in the room, sad but keeping back tears bravely. She had a box, a present she said. She gave it to me and when I opened it I cried. Inside was a ring, just like the one my father gave me. The ring represented the love he and his mother had for his father. He took it everywhere he went so it felt like his father