Timothy's room Timothy loved to create, and he would often kneel by his bed to work on Lego projects. His mind was inquisitive and, while playing, he learned to troubleshoot. I loved that about my son. The week of the accident, Timothy had dumped his Legos onto one of his two beds. The last morning we left the house together, that's where his Lego collection was. His bike was parked in one corner of the room. His airplanes were sitting out. One of his favorite soldiers was lying next to the bed, which had automobile-design sheets on it. For the first seven months after the accident, I kept this room locked. I did not have the courage to step inside, and I did not want anybody else to go in, either. I needed time to allow myself to accept the fact that he was not with me. Holding on to how he left the things in his room seemed to give me the peace of something familiar, to which I could go back when I felt ready. I needed to see the room just how Timothy lef...