Forgive me for ever having mistrusted you, darling. But you have been a little distant these past 7 years

My mind came back to the present just as the credits rolled up the screen. Now it made sense. The spontaneous beach trip. The list of his favorite movies. That sad, sad smile... My father knew he was going to die, he knew he was sick. It was only 7 months later. Why hadn’t he told me? Was he worried about the burden it would lay on me? I couldn’t even remember what happened two weeks ago anymore, why these memories, why now?
I searched for the door to the projector room, and walked up the 7 steps to turn off the movie. My hands seemed to have the muscle memory of what to do to take off the reel. I opened up the reel case sitting on the nearby table. With 7 turns the reel was rolled up and I began packing it away. Just as I was putting the lid back on, I noticed something taped to the inside. I carefully ripped it off, and flipped it over. My name was written on the front. I unfolded it to reveal a letter.

My dear Heather,
I don’t know when, or if even, you will find this letter, but I do know that if you do, I will already be gone. I apologize for not telling you of my sickness earlier, but I didn’t have the courage. I meant to tell you on our final trip together, but alas you wore such a cute smile the whole time, I just couldn’t bare to tell you. I understand if you feel any anger towards me, but you must not feel any anger for your mother. She was forced to leave. We discussed it, and we both felt it was the best decision. I single letter can not describe the situation, so I urge you to talk to her. I know you have probably not spoken to her in a very long time, as you were known to be hard headed, but she will gladly explain to you the details. Just listen.
Remember I love you very much, and as long as you keep your imagination with movies, I will always be by your side.
Love,
Dad

I stood there, staring at the paper, for what felt like eternity, but in reality only 7 minutes passed. The paper was the last bit of my dad. His swooping handwriting, with i’s that looked more like 7’s. His last words, and he wanted me to forgive my mother. I had very few memories at this point, so I had no reason to only guess at my relationship with my own mother. Perhaps it was time to forgive and forget. Perhaps it was time for a happy ending.