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”
People thought Maya and I created it together immediately.
No.
I needed time before I could turn any of Caleb’s belongings or money into public remembrance.
For the first two years, even seeing his name printed somewhere unexpected could ruin my afternoon.
Eventually his unused college savings sat there long enough that I asked:
What would fit him?
Art.
School.