Remember when you were little, and you would come to me with scraped knees or broken toys? I was always there to mend them, to comfort you, to give you whatever I could to make things right. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred, and care turned into expectation, love into obligation.

The money you’ve grown to see as your safety net was never meant to be a permanent solution. It was your father’s and my hard-earned savings, intended for emergencies. We never intended for it to fuel an endless cycle of dependency.

The key you now hold opens a safety deposit box at the bank, in your name. Inside, you’ll find a modest inheritance, enough to put Travis through college or to start a small business—whatever he dreams. It’s time for you to start building something for him, and for yourself, out of your own efforts and dreams.