Gemotions

He stared at the handwritten list, his throat constricting. The paper, found tucked inside his father’s worn leather journal, was titled “Things to do before…” The blank space that followed hung heavy in the silence of the empty house. “Visit the Grand Canyon” was number one. He’d known his father had always wanted to go. Yet, when he’d suggested it, a dozen times, the answer was always “Not now, maybe later.”

His knuckles were white as he gripped the list. A wave of nausea rolled through him. He recalled all the missed opportunities, the curt responses he'd offered. His own life had felt so important.

He found himself pacing the living room, the list a constant weight in his pocket. He picked up his phone, scrolling through travel websites. The images of the majestic canyon filled him with a painful longing. He wanted to undo every cross word, every hurried dismissal. He knew he couldn't.