Gemotions

He stared at the list, his stomach twisting. "Build a treehouse," read the first item. His father, the man who spent his life behind a desk, building something physical? It didn’t fit the image he’d constructed. He paced the living room, agitated.

The silence of the house felt deafening. "Learn to play the saxophone." The very thought caused a stinging sensation to rise in his chest. A saxophone? He couldn't imagine himself doing that. He kept pulling at his lower lip.

He kept re-reading the last entry: "Find peace." He swallowed hard. The feeling of being completely unmoored, the overwhelming grief, made it seem an impossible task. He pushed the list away, but the words echoed in his head.