Before My 19-Year-Old Son Died, He Donated His Heart to an 18-Year-Old Girl—Then Her Mother Handed Me a Letter: “Mom, There’s Something You Need to Know About Her”
Thank God.
He knew better.
He wrote:
Please don’t make her into me.
That sentence became the most important thing he left me.
Because the temptation was enormous.
The first time I heard his heart beating in Maya’s chest, I wanted to close my eyes and pretend my son was somehow still physically present.
Part of him was.