The memory of my late son, Peter, still lingers, and the pain of his loss remains. However, a recent encounter with my ex-wife, Susan, and her husband, Jerry, sparked a fire within me. They asked me to give the college fund I had saved for Peter to their stepson, Ryan. I was appalled by their request, and my response left them stunned.
As I sat in Peter’s room, surrounded by his belongings and memories, I couldn’t help but think about our life together. I was his sole caregiver after Susan left when Peter was twelve. I worked tirelessly to provide for him, support him, and be there for him whenever he needed me. Susan, on the other hand, was absent from his life, only sending him a birthday card with her name scribbled at the bottom.
The meeting with Susan and Jerry was tense, with them trying to justify their request. However, I stood firm, refusing to let them claim a part of Peter’s legacy. I reminded them of their absence in Peter’s life and how they had neglected him during his summer stay with them. The memory of Peter telling me that Jerry had said he wasn’t his responsibility still hurts.
As the conversation escalated, I realized that I had to take a stand. I told them that the college fund was for Peter, and I wouldn’t let them use it for their own purposes. With a newfound determination, I decided to use the fund to fulfill Peter’s dreams. We had always talked about visiting Belgium together, exploring its castles, museums, and breweries.
A week later, I found myself on a plane, Peter’s picture securely in my pocket. As I traveled through Belgium, I felt his presence with me. I marveled at the grand castles, strolled through the museums, and even visited a monastic brewery. With each step, I felt Peter’s excitement, his skewed smile, and his infectious curiosity.
As I sat by the canal on my final night, watching the city lights reflect off the water, I took out Peter’s picture and showed it to the world. Silently, I whispered, “This is for you, Peter. We made it.” For the first time in months, the pain in my chest subsided. Peter may be gone, but his memory and legacy live on, and no one can take that away from me.
