The moment I saw her standing at my threshold, something felt.
It has been years since Susan and I spoke out of affairs concerning our son Peter. Now that he was gone, I couldn’t imagine what he wanted.
Her expression was unreadable – a mix between hesitation and determination. When I invited her, a strange restlessness settled over me. I had no idea what he was going to ask, he shook me to my core.
I held on in a photo of Peter, my late son, thinking about the life he could live if he was still with us. Peter was a living young man who threw himself with dreams and aspirations until the drunk driver tragically ended hhis life
Peter’s mother and I divorced when he was 12 years old. Compared to two years later, she got married again and I did it when Peter was 16.
Peter lived with me after the divorce. His mom wanted to have time for handcuffs with her stepson, Ryan.
During one summer he spent with them, confiding that his mom and her new family had maintained an emotional distance. He wanted him not to spend the next day in this environment, although he sometimes stayed in touch.
Peter had a passion for drawing, especially sketching. His ambition was to participate in Yale and the photo I held was taken only a day before his acceptance at the university.
When I remembered happier times and loved conversations with my son, I heard knocking on my door.
It was Susan, ex-ex-wife. She mentioned that she had to discuss something important with me.
We haven’t spoken much from our department, with the exception of Peter, and now that he was gone, I couldn’t understand what she needed to discuss.
There was a courage that made me question my own grief, and raised the fund I saved for Peter. She was right; I set up a 529 plan for his educational purposes.
“Since Peter is no longer with us, maybe we can use this money for higher education.” My husband, Jerry, thinks it would be a reasonable decision, ”she suggested.
I was impressed. “Use Peter’s savings I have postponed for years for someone he had hardly known?” You have to joke, I replied incredibly.
“Try to understand, Ryan is also part of the family,” she insisted.
“What family, Susan?” Peter met Ryan only a few times, ”I retorted, rising in his voice. “And you don’t remember when Peter heard Jerry that Peter wasn’t his responsibility?” Now do you want to use its resources for someone else? ”
She tried to convince me that Peter wanted it, but I knew that my son was good enough to understand that he wouldn’t agree.
I asked Susan to leave my house.
The next day I decided to fulfill one of Peter’s dreams by booking a trip to Belgium, a country he wanted to visit. I walked through the streets, admired museums and experienced the famous “beer monks”, carried my photo with me and felt his presence at every step.
After returning, I invested the remaining funds in the foundation of the Foundation devoted to the care of young artists such as Peter.
In this way, I believed that I really honored my son’s memory and heritage.
When I held a photo of my late son, Peter, the memories flooded my mind. I was thinking about the life he could live if he was still here. Peter was a clear, ambitious young man full of dreams – until a drunk driver tragically shortened his life.
Peter’s mother and I divorced when he was 12, and she got married again two years later. I also moved and got married again when Peter was 16.
Peter lived with me after our department. His mother wanted to concentrate on the connection with her stepson, Ryan, so she saw Petera less often.
During the summer he spent with them, Peter told me that he felt distant from his mother and her new family. He told me he didn’t want to spend another day in this environment, although he kept contact with them.
Peter had a deep passion for art, especially sketching. His dream was to take part in Yale and the photo I held was taken only the day before he received a letter of reception.
When I remembered our conversations and esteemed memories, a sudden knocking on my door pulled me out of my thoughts.
It was Susan, my ex-wife. She said she had to talk about something important.
We haven’t spoken much since our divorce, except when Peter occurred. Now that he was gone, I couldn’t imagine what he had to say.
With the courage that amazed me, she raised a college fund that I saved for Peter. She was right – I created a 529 plan to support his education.
“Given that Peter is no longer with us, maybe we could use the money for the Tuition Ryan,” she suggested. “Jerry thinks it would be a practical decision.”
I shocked at her. “Do you want to use the money I have saved for years – for Peter’s future – someone he hardly knew?” You have to joke, ”I said in disbelief.
“Please try to understand it,” she begged. “Ryan is also part of the family.”
“What family, Susan?” I shot back, my anger climbed. Peter has only met Ryan a few times.” And do you not remember when Peter heard Jerry, who said, “Isn’t that my responsibility”? Now you expect to make my funds to Ryan? ”
She insisted that Peter wanted it, but I knew my son was good enough to know that this wasn’t true.
I asked Susan to leave.
The next day I decided to fulfill one of Peter’s dreams – I booked a trip to Belgium, a country that he always wanted to visit.
As I walked through his streets, I explored his museums and even experienced the famous “beer monks”, which fascinated. I carried my photo with me. At any moment I felt his presence.
When I came back, I knew exactly what to do with the remaining money. I invested it until the foundation of the Foundation in the support of young artists, such as Peter, who gave aspiring talents a chance to watch their dreams, as he hoped. In the end, I honored my son’s memory in a way that really mattered.
In the end, I knew I had decided. Peter’s dreams, his passion for art and the future he thought he deserved to be honored – not erased. While my ex-wife saw her savings as a convenient solution, I saw it as an inheritance, how to give other young artists the opportunity Peter had never had.
Even though I always carry pain that I have lost, I found comfort that his memory will live on as a foundation. Every sketch, every painting, every aspiring artist who supported, was a tribute to my son’s dreams.
Peter may not be here anymore, but his spirit would continue to be inspired, and he would never really be gone.