Son,
If you’re standing there, then you’ve already done something I couldn’t. You finished it.
My eyes blurred.
I know you were angry with me. You had every right to be.
I stopped.
Dad had never said that in life.
Not once.
I thought being hard on you would make the world easier later. Sometimes I was right. Sometimes I was just hard.
I pressed my fist against my mouth.
There are things I wish I had said.
I was proud of you when you got your first job.
I was proud when you bought groceries without being asked.
I was proud when you kept fixing those ridiculous shoes instead of quitting.
I was proud every time you handed me that $250 even though I knew you hated me for taking it.
Then came a sentence I read three times.
I saved the money because I wanted you to have choices when I was gone.
