Gemotions

The antique rocking chair, creaking softly with each gentle movement, sat on the porch. The old wooden frame had held countless family members over the years. His daughter, Emily, had sent a text: “Grandma wants to sell the chair, Thomas. The medical bills are a lot.” Thomas stared at his phone, his jaw tight.

He remembered rocking his own children in that chair, singing lullabies. He thought about the family who had sat in it before them.

He took a slow breath, feeling a familiar steadiness. He would handle this. "I'm coming over," he messaged back, his fingers moving carefully over the screen. He was not going to rush.