Gemotions

The microphone felt surprisingly light in Liam’s hand. He bounced on the balls of his feet, scanning the room. Mom's colleagues, all in their Sunday best, smiled expectantly. He winked at his sister, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly from the front row. This was going to be fun.

He cleared his throat, a grin splitting his face. “Alright everyone,” he began, his voice taking on a theatrical lilt, “let’s talk about… Margaret.” He paused, letting the name hang in the air, then added with a flourish, "A woman, a legend, a… well, a worker." He took a quick bow, earning a ripple of laughter.

"I remember when Mom used to bring work home," he continued, eyes twinkling. "Specifically, the paper. And what did I do with said paper? Why, I transformed it into magnificent paper airplanes of course! I bet some of you even got hit by them!" He chuckled, relishing the memory.