That evening, I found myself in Robert’s old room, sitting beside his telescope, its lens still marked with tiny fingerprints from nights spent chasing constellations. My husband joined me in silence, the kind that comforts instead of hurts. Together, we realized that love doesn’t fade — it changes form.
One day, perhaps, that fund might help another child reach for the stars, just as Robert once dreamed. But until then, it remains untouched — a quiet promise, kept in his honor.
