I pulled up HBO and picked some cheesy romcom that I was sure she’d love.
Thirty minutes in and she was already blubbering.She sniffled before blowing her nose.“Carter, my sweet boy, don't ever be afraid to love with your whole heart.”
I tried not to laugh at her.She was so ridiculous, crying over a damn movie.But I grinned.“Sure thing, Mom.”
“I’m serious.Someday, you’ll meet the love of your life, and I don’t want you to be a big dummy like your dad was!”
“How was he a dummy?”
“Oh, he thought it would be best to ignore me.”
“He was thirteen!”
“Well, I set him straight.If you’re anything like that stubborn ass, I hope your person is a ball-buster.She’ll have to be.”
The memory made me think of Olivia, of the swooping sensation in my stomach whenever she smiled, the way my heart raced when she was near.The way she did indeed bust my balls.And I thought of the fear that kept me from letting her in.I swallowed hard, fighting the painful lump in my throat.“Dad?”
He looked up, eyebrows raised.
“Do you...do you ever regret it?Loving Mom so completely, knowing how much it would hurt to lose her?”
Dad's shoulders rose and fell as he took a long breath.“It was hard at first.I was angry.But, no.Not for a second, Son.Your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me.The pain of losing her, it's excruciating.But I wouldn't trade a moment of our time together to avoid it.”
We stood in silence, the setting sun painting the sky orange and pink.As darkness began to fall, Dad cleared his throat.
“You know, your mom always said you had a big heart.Said it was your greatest strength and your greatest weakness.”
I looked at him, surprised.He'd never mentioned this before.
“What do you think she meant by that?”
Dad shrugged, his eyes fixed on the headstone.“I think she knew you'd feel things deeply.Love fiercely.But she also worried you might close yourself off to protect that big heart of yours.”
The words were a hammer blow.That was exactly what I had done, and my mother had predicted it long before now.
“Don't let fear keep you from living.That's not what your mom would've wanted for you.Life's too short for regrets.”
I studied Dad's face, noticing the deep lines etched around his eyes and mouth that hadn't been there last year.His hair, once salt-and-pepper, now seemed more silver than dark.
“Dad, I...”I was unsure how to voice the guilt gnawing at me.When was the last time I'd called him just to chat?How many dinners had I skipped out on, claiming work as an excuse?
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.
“I'm sorry I haven't been around much.I should've made more of an effort to stay in touch.”
Dad shook his head.“You're busy, Son.I understand.”
But I could see the hurt in his eyes, the loneliness that had plagued him since Mom died.I remembered the way he used to be—strong, larger than life.Now he seemed diminished somehow.
“That's no excuse,” I insisted.“You're my father.I should've been there for you.”
He sighed.“We both know I wasn't exactly the easiest person to be around after...well, after.”
I winced, recalling the arguments and cold silences that had stretched between us in those first few years after Mom's death.We'd both been drowning in grief, unable to reach out to each other.
“Still, I could've tried harder.”
“We both could've.But we're here now, aren't we?”
