Gemotions

He had been cleaning out his garage, hoping to find his old golf clubs. Instead, he found a dusty box. Inside, he located a letter that he'd penned years ago, addressed to his estranged son, Mark. He remembered writing it, but he never sent it.

The letter was a series of apologies, interspersed with explanations, and excuses for his failings as a father. It was a plea for forgiveness. The paper was creased, the ink faded, just like the bridge between him and Mark.

He ran a hand across his face, and his gaze drifted toward the empty driveway. The letter felt cold in his hand. The weight of his absence in his son's life bore down on him.