“First thing I want to say is… I’m sorry.”
For illustrative purposes only
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“When your mom died, I got scared. I thought if I worked hard enough, kept a roof over our heads, and made sure you learned to stand on your own two feet, I’d be doing my job.”
He lowered his head.
“Somewhere along the way, I forgot how to be your dad.”
I couldn’t look away from the screen.
“I spent so much time worrying about making sure you had a decent life that I forgot something pretty important. Life’s supposed to make you happy, too. Not just pay the bills.”
He paused, struggling to find the words.
“When I saw you playing guitar, I remembered how much music meant to me. I remembered how happy it made me. And then I remembered how you used to look when you played.”
