When Cassie returns home from a retreat with her husband and child, she discovers a mystery note from her mother pushing her to view a movie. Cassie’s entire world changes as soon as she pushes play. Ultimately, she is left wondering which of her parents deserves forgiveness. My father had no flaws in my opinion. He performed admirably in all of the roles I assigned him. He always made time for me despite his frequent professional travel.

“You’re my little princess, Cassie,” he’d remark, lightly tapping my nose. “You’re the most special.” Despite their busy schedules, my parents made time for family dinners.It kept me grounded, especially while my friends’ parents went through a difficult divorce. “I think it’s a new trend,” I joked with my mother over some baked banana bread. “Cassie, divorce isn’t something to joke about,” she said, chuckling. “It’s painful, traumatic, and rarely easy.”

“I just meant it’s becoming more common,” I clarified. “Kids living between two homes, you know?” I had no idea my statements would cast such a dark shadow over our home. My father left soon after for a business trip. Hours later, we learned of his death. “How?” I demanded. “What happened?” “I’m not sure what to say, Cassie,” my mother said, looking shaken.

“And now?” I asked. “What about the funeral?” “I think we’ll skip it,” she remarked. “Your father requested a quiet ceremony by the beach. Let us respect his requests. Initially, I couldn’t understand her decision. However, as time went, the concept developed on me. “You’re being difficult,” my mother said, noting my gloomy countenance. “I’m not,” I said. “I think it’s a good idea.”

I could have fought for something more elaborate, but what was the point? We were both grieving. Months later, I reserved a cabin for a family vacation. My husband and son were quite excited about camping, but I preferred the comfort of a cabin. We left our dog, Romeo, with my mother for a week. The respite invigorated me. But when I returned home, my mother was nowhere to be found. Instead, a note awaited me.

“Watch this, Cassie. I apologize. — Mom” I was intrigued and viewed the video on my own. My father, alive and old, appeared on the TV. As I tried to process the knowledge, tears welled up. My father admitted to the recorder about his clandestine life and worsening health. Surprised and perplexed, I confronted my mother. “Explain,” I commanded. She paused before revealing the truth about my father’s secret life and her resolve to keep it hidden.

I was left reeling and doubting everything. In pursuit of closure, I went to see my father. At his bedside, I heard his stories, regrets, and love. When he died, I was unsure whether forgiveness was possible. Now, as the dust settles, I am considering forgiving my mother.