Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"Dad, look at this."

Timothy took the phone from Henry and glanced at the video account. A brand- new movie trailer had just been uploaded.

He asked hoarsely, "Is this your mother's account?"

"Looks like it is."

A shadow crossed Timothy's eyes. "Have you seen these before?"

Tears welled in Henry's eyes. "Yeah... I have. Every night, Mom would play me stories from this account. I... I just never realized..."

A wave of guilt crashed over him. He'd never truly understood what his mother had done for him.

Because she couldn't speak, she couldn't read him bedtime stories like other moms. So she found another way-she made these videos, just for him. All this time, he'd thought she just found random cartoons online. He'd even complained to her face that all she did was play videos on her phone, that it didn't mean anything.

He'd begged Sheila to stay and tell him stories, even pushed his own mother aside for it.

Later, when he learned Sheila was popular and could animate stories-when his classmates envied him-he thought, wouldn't it be great if Sheila could be his mom instead?

But his real mother had always been able to make cartoons.

her

once told him alone were

felt like it might

mother's love. After all, in the arts-and-crafts contest, he'd cut out a picture of a lamb

mute, he'd never dared admit she was his mother

much must that have hurt

voice hitched as he started to sob, words coming

wrong... I'm... I'm so sorry

him, sharper with every

had to admit what he'd

told Timothy everything that had happened when he'd been in the hospital for

capital alone, even though she'd promised to celebrate her birthday with him when he returned. Had she gone to

wanted to scold his son, but the

just Henry's fault. He was

guided him to notice the quiet ways

let Mom down."

himself to add to his pain. Henry

into a hug. "No more tears, okay? Let's go find your mom. You

the backseat. Timothy watched

but even with all the housework and her job, she'd poured her energy into