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.

She could write her own stories, too.

little tales she once told him alone were now

like

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

dared admit she was his mother in front of

must that have

hitched as he started to

I was wrong... I'm... I'm so sorry to

stabbed at him, sharper with

had to admit

everything that had happened when

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

Timothy wanted to scold his son,

wasn't just Henry's fault. He was

never helped Henry understand, never guided him to

me. I... I let Mom down."

add to his pain. Henry

okay? Let's go find your mom. You can

two sat in the backseat. Timothy watched every