Gemotions

The old, yellowed piece of paper crackled in his hands. He reread the familiar handwriting. "Visit Rome. Learn to cook Italian. Tell my children I love them more." He clenched his jaw, the words a direct indictment. He’d been so caught up in his own worries, he’d forgotten to truly *see* his father. The last entry hit him with the force of a physical blow.

His vision blurred. He felt a profound sense of loss, a bottomless pit of emptiness. He’d been given the greatest gift, and he had squandered it.

He picked up the phone, and with a voice thick with emotion, he called his own children.