Gemotions

The sheer volume of it was overwhelming. Boxes upon boxes, stacked in the guest bedroom like a monument to maternal dedication, or perhaps, something less flattering. She ran a hand over the top box. Her mother’s neat handwriting: “Emily’s Memories.” She knew what was inside. She’d seen it before, but now, it felt different.

She opened the first box. Inside, the usual fare: spelling tests, art projects, and book reports. She picked up a book report on *The Secret Garden*, the margins filled with her mother’s notes, correcting her spelling and offering suggestions. She remembered the endless rewrites, the pressure to always do better. She thought about how she had never been able to be good enough for her mother. She slammed the box shut.