In another clip, the bassist accidentally knocked over an entire tray of drinks.
I laughed until my eyes watered.
I’d never seen Dad like this. He was loud, funny, full of energy. Nothing like the man who barely spoke to me over breakfast.
Dad appeared.
Then the footage suddenly stopped.
The screen went black.
A few seconds later, Dad appeared.
Not the young musician I’d just been watching, but the man I’d buried that morning.
Dad looked down at his hands.
He was sitting in the very studio where I stood now. His face was thin, and the cancer had taken most of his hair.
“Hey, son.”
My breath caught.
Dad looked down at his hands before continuing.
“I’ve never been good at this stuff. Talking about feelings. You know that better than anybody.”
My breath caught.
He attempted a smile.
“First thing I want to say is… I’m sorry.”
