Henry: Your daughter’s looking for you, isn’t she? Jefferson: What do you know about it? Henry: I read your story. I know how the two of you were separated. Why are you here? She’s at school. […] She probably wants to see you. Why aren’t you going to find her? Jefferson: Because I left her! And she’ll hate me. Henry: How do you know that? […] I’ve been left, too. Anything’s better than nothing. She’ll spend her whole life wondering why you left her. Not knowing is the worst.
My mother told me before shows to get up there and show them whose little boy you are. And I’m showing today that I am the son of Kathy Withrow Kazee, who lost the fight with cancer on Easter Sunday this year. And I miss you every day, and I feel you with me tonight.