Gemotions

He carefully dusted off his old trombone. It hadn't been touched in years, but he couldn't bear to sell it. His daughter, Maya, was going to be in Mr. Henderson’s band class, the same Mr. Henderson who had patiently taught *him* to play. A current of something like peace flowed through him.

He dug out his old sheet music, now yellowed with age, and remembered the excitement he felt during his youth. He wanted to hear the music once again. He remembered that one concert. And Maya, he knew, would likely feel the same mix of terror and joy that he had once experienced.

He caught himself humming a tune from his school days, a song from that distant past. The song made him remember the past, and he was struck with how little of it he remembered and how deeply he had been touched by it.