I never expected to hear from Susan, especially after Peter was gone.
Our connection disappeared into distant memories held together only by our shared love for our son. So when I saw her name light on the phone screen and later heard unexpected knocking on my door, a strange feeling settled in my intestine.
Something about her sudden visit felt as if she wasn’t just here to remember Peter – but ask for something. And I was right.
When I organized a photo of my late son Peter, I was thinking about the life he could live if fate was more kind. He was a clear young man full of dreams and ambition until the tragic accident involving a drunk driver shortened.
Peter’s mother and I divorced when he was 12, and two years later she got married again. I also found love again and I got married again when Peter turned 16.
Peter lived with me after our department. His mother decided to focus on building a relationship with her stepon, Ryan.
During one summer visit with them, Peter told me about the emotional distance he felt from his mother’s new family. He never wanted to return to this environment, although he sometimes stayed with them.
Peter had a deep passion for art, especially sketches, and he dreamed of participating in Yale. The photo I held was taken only the day before it was admitted to the university.
When I sat and remembered our rare moments together, sudden vibration on the door interrupted my thoughts.
It was Susan, my ex -wife. She said she needed to discuss something important.
Since our divorce, our interviews have only been about Peter. Now that he was gone, I had no idea what he wanted to talk about.
With worrying confidence, she raised a fund that I postponed to Peter’s education.
“You know, because Peter is no longer with us, maybe we could use the money for the Tuching Ryan’s College. My husband, Jerry, thinks it would be a practical decision,” she suggested.
I was impressed. “Do you want to use the money I saved for Peter – his future – someone he hardly knew?
“Try to understand, Ryan is also a family,” she insisted.
“Family?” I mocked. “Peter barely knew Ryan. And do you remember when Peter heard Jerry that he wasn’t his responsibility? Now do you want to use his savings for him?”
She tried to convince me that Peter wanted it, but I knew my son was good enough to be sure he wouldn’t agree.
I asked her to leave my house.
The next day I decided to honor one of Peter’s dreams. I booked a trip to Belgium, a place he always wanted to visit. As I walked through the historic streets, admired the museums and experienced the famous “beer monks”, I carried my photo with me and felt his presence at any moment.
When I came back, I used the remaining funds to create a foundation dedicated to the support of young artists such as Peter.
At the same time, I believed I really honored my son’s memory and legacy.
In the end, I knew that honoring Peter’s dreams and heritage was the only choice that felt right. While Susan might have believed that the use of his savings for Ryan was a reasonable decision, I could not ignore the fact that Peter’s ambitions were his own. By using funds to support young artists like him, I have ensured that his passion for creativity will continue to live and inspire others who share their dreams.
When I was thinking about my journey to Belgium and the steps that I made to maintain Peter’s memory, I felt a feeling of peace. His life could be shortened, but through the foundation of his spirit, his spirit would continue to shine and touch the lives of those who, like him, dared to dream.