The old man, Em Jay sat at his sleek, modern desk, a recent purchase meant to spruce up his small apartment. The hum of the city outside his window provided a constant backdrop, punctuated by the occasional siren or distant chatter. He glanced at the glowing screen of his laptop, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
At 65, he felt an urgency in his bones—a sense that his days were numbered.
For the last fifteen years, the old man, Em Jay had lived alone. His marriage had crumbled long ago, a casualty of misunderstandings and unspoken grievances.
His two sons and one daughter had grown up and moved away, building their own lives and families.
He had four grandchildren, though he seldom saw them. Visits were infrequent, and the messages and video calls that once brightened his days had become rare.
The old man, Em Jay had managed to survive by doing freelance writing, crafting articles and stories for various online platforms.
Financially, he experienced highs and lows, but he had always made it through. Today, though, he wasn't writing for money. He was preparing his last note.He took a deep breath and began to type.
Dear Loved Ones,
As I sit here, I can't help but think about the twists and turns my life has taken. At 65, I find myself in a quiet apartment, my only companions the memories of what once was and the silence of what could have been.
The old man Em Jay paused, his eyes misting over as he thought of his children. Em Kay, the eldest, had always been the responsible one. Sarah, his only daughter, full of life and laughter. And Em Ell, the youngest, with his wild dreams and even wilder spirit. They had grown up so quickly, and he had missed so much, lost in his own battles and regrets.
Kay, Sarah, Em Ell—I'm sorry. Sorry for the times I wasn't there, for the moments I missed, and for the words I never said. I loved you all more than I could ever express, but life and my own failings kept me distant.
He thought of his grandchildren, the few precious times he had spent with them. The way their eyes lit up with curiosity and joy, a stark contrast to his own weary gaze.
To my grandchildren, you are the light I seldom got to see. I hope your lives are filled with love, joy, and the fulfillment of dreams.
The old man, Em Jay's hands trembled slightly as he typed, the emotions welling up within him. He had always found solace in writing, a way to pour out his heart when words failed him in person.
These past years, living alone, I've had a lot of time to reflect. There have been moments of deep sorrow and fleeting joy. I've found peace in the simple things—a warm cup of coffee, the sound of rain against the window, the pages of a well-worn book.
He looked around his modest home, taking in the familiar surroundings. The framed photos on the wall, capturing moments of happiness; the bookshelves filled with stories he had escaped into; the faint scent of the lavender air freshener that reminded him of the garden his ex-wife had once tended with care.
Life is a series of moments, some beautiful, some painful, but all a part of the journey. I am grateful for every experience, for they have shaped who I am today.
The old man, Em Jay set his hands in his lap for a moment, his eyes drifting to the window. Outside, the city lights flickered, a reminder that time was passing, that life was fleeting.
As I sense my time may be nearing its end, I want you all to know that I have no regrets left to haunt me. I have lived, loved, lost, and learned. And in my solitude, I have found a quiet acceptance.
Please remember me not for my failures, but for the moments of kindness, the stories shared, and the love that, despite everything, was always there.
With all my love,
A father and grandad
The old man Em Jay
He saved the document, his eyes lingering on the screen. A tear slipped down his cheek. He wasn't sure if it was for the life he had lived or the one he had missed. But there was a sense of peace in knowing he had said what needed to be said.
The old man, Em Jay attached the document to an email addressed to his children.
He took a deep breath, the weight on his chest lifting slightly. He had written many things in his life, but this note, this final message, felt like his most important work.
As the city lights continued to twinkle outside, The old man, Em Jay sat back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips.
He had done what he could.
The rest was up to those he left behind. And with that thought, he closed his eyes, letting the quiet embrace of the evening envelop him.