Gemotions

He pulled open the battered wooden drawer. Inside, nestled amongst old photographs and dried flowers, he found it. His grandmother's letter. He was surprised. He knew his grandmother. He couldn't imagine a time when she was anything other than the steady, unflappable matriarch of the family. The handwriting was hesitant, the ink faded, but the message was clear. She felt like she was drowning.

The words were shocking, revealing a vulnerability he never knew existed. His grandmother, a stay-at-home mother, had written of feeling "drained by the incessant demands of maintaining a household" and "the lack of personal fulfillment." He felt a prickle of discomfort, and a wave of empathy washed over him. The weariness of his grandmother, of all those years ago, echoed in his own bones. The weight of his own responsibilities felt heavier than usual.