“Are you okay?” a young lady who worked in the café said.

            Startled, I nearly dropped my empty coffee cup. “Just waiting for someone.”

            “Someone special?”

            “My son,” I said, handing her the cup. “I received a message to meet him here. Haven’t seen him in nearly fifteen years.”

            “Why so long?”

            “He…” Again, the blame was always on him. I had to learn to take responsibility for my part in it. “We fought.” Clasping my hands together, I recalled that night. “I didn’t want him to waste his life chasing unrealistic dreams. Most musicians have a lonely life of poverty. We didn’t raise our only child to become a beatnik.”

            Adjusting my cap and jacket, I struggled to feel comfortable as the memories rushed back at me. “I’ve never understood why he couldn’t finish college and major in something solid. He could do music on the side. What kind of life could he ever expect for himself? How would he ever marry and raise children on such income?”

            “Sometimes you have to follow your heart when you have the chance,” she said softly. “Who knows how long we all have on this earth. Haven’t you ever had a dream that burned deep inside you?”

            “Of course, but it was more important that I earned a steady income.”

            “Why?”

            “What kind of question is that?” I responded rudely.

            She didn’t seem to be offended. “Why was it so important?”
            “So my wife and I could live well into our old age and my son could get a good education and make something of himself.”

            “How did that work out for you?” she said, setting a newspaper on my table for me to read while I waited for my son.

            A lump collected in my throat, making it difficult to talk. “Cancer took Penny from me while David was still in college. It changed his direction in life, as well as our relationship. Penny had always loved to hear David play his music, and he decided to play it for her everyday for the rest of his life.”

            “So you’re here to make amends?”

            “David and his wife just had their third child.” I smiled off to one side as water began to build in my eyes. “I’ve never seen my grandchildren.”

            “Your grandchildren need you in their life.”

            “I’ve missed so much of their lives already. I’ve never even met his wife.” Thumbing through the newspaper allowed me to keep my head down so she wouldn’t see my tears. “All these years, I’ve blamed and punished him for abandoning me after Penny’s death. I’ve allowed myself to become so bitter that I missed his life as an adult. I hope he’ll forgive me.”

            “He invited you here. He has already forgiven you,” she said softly.

            “I hope that’s true,” I said, looking up, only to find her gone from my sight.

            Looking down at the newspaper, an article caught my eye. It had a picture of my son playing guitar. Below the photo it said, “Successful musician dies in car accident.”

            I had missed it. My anger had caused me to miss it all.

            “Not all,” said the soft voice of the waitress. “His family needs you now more than ever.”

            I swiveled around, but she wasn’t there as I heard the voice again. “Penny says hello.”