It might sound woo-woo, but I honestly believe that the really big events of our lives are like rocks tossed into a pond, sending ripples outward into time in all directions. Maybe that’s why you began the monthly letters to your sons — who knows, but it for sure became an ongoing gift that will ripple into other generations. When my husband died suddenly and my boys were 14 and 20, I wrote letters to my husband every night for a year. It never occurred to me to write letters to my sons about how we were dealing with the unbearable. I wish it had. And yet, deal we did, and they’ve both grown into men I’m truly proud of. Yours will too, I have no doubt.