What you want is 15 Christmases on December 25th, 15 birthdays, 15 years of sleeping next to him and waking up with him. You want anniversary dinners, you want parent-teacher conferences, and school plays. You want fights over whose turn it is to wash the dishes and walk the dog. What you want, what you've always wanted, is to be part of his life. Now he's gone you want to be part of his legacy. But you aren't and you never were. And I can get you six million dollars to try and fix how much that hurts, but that is all that I can do.