Looking at the picture of my son Peter, who is no longer with us, I couldn’t help but think about how different life might have been if he were still here. He was such a lively young man, always chasing his dreams. Tragically, his life ended too soon because of a drunk driver.
Peter’s mom and I got divorced when he was 12 years old. She married someone else just two years later, and I did the same when Peter turned 16.
After the divorce, Peter lived with me. His mom wanted to take her time to connect with her new stepson, Ryan.
Peter only spent one summer with them, but later he told me that his mom and her new family felt really distant emotionally. He never wanted to spend another day with them, even though he still kept in touch and saw them occasionally.
Peter loved to draw, especially making sketches, and his biggest dream was to go to Yale. The picture of him that I held tightly was taken the day before he got accepted into that amazing university.
As I thought about some happier moments and my deep conversations with my late son, I heard a knock on the door.
It was Susan, my ex-wife. She said she needed to talk to me about something important.
She and I hadn’t really spoken much since we broke up, except when it came to Peter. Now that he was no longer with us, I couldn’t think of anything we could talk about together.
With a boldness that made me wonder if my feelings were getting in the way, she mentioned that she knew I had a fund for Peter. She was correct; I had a 529 Plan for him. It was meant for his college expenses, and he could use it for anything related to his education.
“Now that Peter is gone, we could use that money for my stepson’s education. My husband Jerry thinks that’s the best idea,” she said.
I was shocked by her suggestion. “You want to use Peter’s money, which I saved for years, for someone my son hardly knew? That’s just crazy,” I replied.
“Please stop acting like this. Ryan is family too,” she said. “What family are you talking about, Susan? Peter has only met your stepson Ryan a few times.”
I replied, my voice filled with anger, “Do you not remember that summer when Peter stayed with you and your new family? He heard Jerry say that Peter wasn’t his responsibility, and now you want to use his money for someone else?”
She tried to argue that it was what Peter would have wanted, but I knew my son better than anyone, and I was sure he wouldn’t want me to do that.
I told Susan to leave my house.
The next day, I planned a journey to Belgium, the place Peter always wanted to see. While I strolled through the streets and explored the museums, I made sure to check out the “beer monks” that he found so interesting. I kept his picture in my pocket, and it felt like he was with me at every turn.
When I got back, I used the leftover money to create a foundation to support young artists like Peter.
In this way, I felt I was keeping Peter’s memory alive and celebrating his legacy.
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