I can still remember the sterile scent of the hospital room and the steady rhythm of the monitors the day everything changed. My daughter Emma—just sixteen—had been on her way home from the library when a tragic accident took her life. A speeding vehicle ran a red light, and in one heartbreaking instant, she was gone.
The days that followed blurred together. I found comfort only in her room, wrapped in her favorite hoodie, surrounded by the books she loved. My ex-husband, Tom, came by the day before the funeral. We sat on her bed, wordless, until he pointed to a book on climate change she’d left by her nightstand. “She was going to make a difference,” he said softly. And she truly was. Emma had planned to attend UC Davis, known for its leading environmental science program.
Not long after, Tom and I faced a difficult question: what should we do with Emma’s college fund? Over a decade of saving—and every summer job she took at the boardwalk ice cream shop—had built up a fund of $25,000. Rather than use it for anything else, we knew the answer lay in the causes Emma cared about most. We found lists she had made, highlighting organizations that focused on reforestation and mentoring young women in climate science. Together, we chose to donate the money to two of those groups. In doing so, we felt connected to her again, as if her voice was guiding us through the grief.
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