I was born on July 2, 1972. Today, I am 42. Since the age of 9, I have feared this birthday for one reason only: my Dad, Harvey Gene Sandifer, passed away at that age. He loved to fish and on April 02, 1981 he left for a last-minute fishing trip. I begged to go with him, but I had school the next day. That was the last time I waved good-bye. Ever since, I have battled with forgiveness and trust because I do not know what happened. Making is my therapy. I have to trust that God had a plan that, at 9, I could not understand. I dedicate my mark on the Last Supper Table to him.