But he was selfish to the end, ashamedly selfish. I don’t want to be to you what my father was my mother. I don’t want to know that I could do make someone feel this way. I stopped him. He noticed.
Did it matter, I asked.
Enough to bother me, he said.
I’m thinking about how I could do this better in the future, he says later.
You did it again, I said. But I guess it doesn’t matter this time around.