Gemotions

"Dear Mom," the poem read, "Thank you for everything." He gripped the worn paper, the words a knife twisting in his gut. He was supposed to be the successful one, the one who made her proud. Instead, he was a disappointment. He’d built a life that didn’t include her.

He knew she’d been proud of him, despite his failures. He thought of all the phone calls he hadn't made, the visits he'd skipped. Now, it was too late. He found himself on his knees, unable to stand, the silence of her home pressing in on him.

He swallowed hard, tears blurring the words on the page. He felt sick with something he couldn't name.