Gemotions

The retirement home smelled of disinfectant and despair. He visited his mother every Sunday, a ritual that had become a burden. Her memory was fading, her grip on reality weakening. He felt a constant, gnawing emptiness.

He finally started sorting through her things, a task that felt like wading through quicksand. Inside a shoe box, he found a folded sheet of paper. It was his grandmother’s letter of resignation.

He read, his vision blurring. It detailed a crushing sense of being unheard. It spoke of a deep, abiding sadness. His grandmother had always seemed so strong, a pillar of the family. He squeezed his eyes shut. The silence in the room was crushing.