I thought the tarp over my son’s 1972 Chevelle was covering the hardest memory of my life. Then my grandson found a letter hidden under the hood: “Dad, if Wyatt finds this, tell him I’m proud of him.” We finished the car together—and finally learned how to keep my son’s memory moving forward instead of keeping it parked in the past.
THE LETTER UNDER THE HOOD My son and I spent six years restoring a 1972 Chevelle. Every Sunday after church, we’d disappear into the garage. He always knew which …
I thought the tarp over my son’s 1972 Chevelle was covering the hardest memory of my life. Then my grandson found a letter hidden under the hood: “Dad, if Wyatt finds this, tell him I’m proud of him.” We finished the car together—and finally learned how to keep my son’s memory moving forward instead of keeping it parked in the past. Read More
