Gemotions

Richard listened to the crisp, satisfying crack of a well-hit golf ball. His son, Henry, was at the driving range, practicing his swing with a level of dedication Richard had never seen before. Richard, a lifelong golfer, had always dreamed of passing his passion on. He felt the smallest tightness in his chest.

He watched Henry meticulously analyze his swing, his face a mask of concentration. Richard knew that feeling. He’d spent countless hours on the course, honing his skills. *He is already good.* His son was getting it now.

“Think I’m getting the hang of it, Dad!” Henry called out, his voice filled with a familiar excitement. Richard casually adjusted his grip on his own club, and then he just smiled a tiny smile. *He is learning.*