After my 15-year-old son Ben died, my world collapsed. At his funeral, family promised support—but within weeks,
they disappeared. Except for Daniel, Ben’s best friend, who had been by his side every weekend for
three years. Before Ben passed, he made me promise one thing: give Daniel his college fund. I agreed.
When relatives later asked about the money, I told them it was going to Daniel. They were furious—he wasn’t “family,”
they said. But none of them knew Ben’s favorite song or what he wore that final day. Daniel did. He held Ben’s hand at the end.
So I kept my promise. I gave Daniel the $25,000. He moved into his dorm with pride and told me, “I’ll make you
and Ben proud.” “You already have,” I said. Blood didn’t make Daniel family—love and loyalty did.
