I plugged it into a computer.
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The video began with footage of Dad as a young musician, laughing with his bandmates and playing onstage. He was energetic and funny, nothing like the quiet man I’d grown up with.
Then the screen went dark.
A moment later, Dad appeared, looking frail from cancer.
“Hey, son,” he said.
I froze.
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“I’ve never been good at talking about feelings. First, I want to say I’m sorry.”
He looked down at his hands.
“When your mom died, I got scared. I thought working hard and teaching you responsibility would be enough. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how to be your dad.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I remembered how much music meant to me, and how happy you were when you played. Then I realized I’d spent years trying to protect you from the very thing that made my own life worth living.”
