Gemotions

"But… Thanksgiving," Martha stammered, her voice catching in her throat. Her son, Ethan, sat across from her, a serene expression on his face that felt like a personal affront. He had just declared his intention to join the Hare Krishna temple.

The dining room, usually a haven of warmth and familial connection, now felt cold and vast. She felt a tremor run through her, a physical reaction to his words. She hadn’t slept well since hearing the news. The world seemed less predictable, less safe.

She wanted to grab him, shake him, demand that he explain himself. The carefully planned holiday dinner, the centerpiece of their year, now felt like a fragile thing, about to shatter. She focused on the pristine white tablecloth, trying to regain control. This new religion was such a departure from everything she knew and held dear.