“I found her online,” he said. “Photos of her with you. With your kids. I recognized her instantly. She was the nurse who told me not to give up hope.”
He messaged her. Once. Twice. Then again. No response.
“I broke down,” he said. “The woman who saved my daughter was gone. And I never got to thank her.”
So he started coming to her grave. Every Saturday. To tell her about Kaylee.
“She’s sixteen now,” he said. “Honor roll. Wants to be a doctor. She volunteers at the children’s hospital. She’s alive because your wife gave $40,000 to a stranger.”
I was crying. Because I remembered.
Fifteen years ago, we had $40,000 saved for a kitchen renovation. Sarah said she’d spent it on “something important.” We fought. I accused her of being reckless. She said, “You’ll understand someday.”
I never did. Until now.
“I’m sorry I came without introducing myself,” Mike said. “I just needed her to know it mattered.”
He stood. “I’ll stop coming if it bothers you.”Continue reading…
