|The Tao of Improv - Page 10|
Brad is looking down. "Are you guys okay?" asks Ann. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, it's okay," I say, holding up my hand. "Just give us a minute."
I put my arm around Brad's neck. "I understand that you feel responsible for Dad. But you didn't know that putting on too much aftershave would trigger his heart attack."
"But I was the one who gave him the aftershave for his birthday," says Brad, now pretending to cry. "If I hadn't given it to him, he'd still be here. It was my fault."
"Joe, it wasn't your fault. Don't feel guilty," I say quietly. "Remember what Dad said in the hospital: Ômen are more than big muscles and sweat. You don't have to smell of concrete dust all the time.' He didn't blame you. He wanted us to be like him. He always wanted us to know that it was alright to . . . smell good."