Mother, please -- mom [ Here he was a man of forty consoling his mother who cried for his mistakes close to breaking down himself. ] That was a boy's anger; whatever he did to us, your sons, was never your fault. I should have seen that all those years go.

[ That one heated decision that drove him out into the world at fourteen was a lifetime ago, but the affect of what he had wrought still so plain on his mother's bereft face. He wiped his mother's tears while ignoring his own falling down his cheeks. How many times before now had he gone to her for such security? ]

Please. Forgive me.