The Dream

We are heading to NY City on a train. I feel happy that I was able to plan and arrange this trip for us - my Mom, my daughter and myself. This is one of my regular roles among this inter-generational group of females! It seems as if we have shared this journey many times with each other and this time feels no different than most, except that it is.

All around us, there are many others sharing this particular journey; each person, each family, immersed in their own private exchange or shared interactions. Muffled voices mix with the rush of the engines and create a hum of Humanity warming the coldness of the machine that carries us.

It is not long before we pull up to the station, though it seems like a life time. I am aware of my 9 year old daughter as she stretches the cramps out of her long lanky legs. I keep her in sight as I begin to gather up our belongings, our itinerary, our bags.

Shortly, my awareness turns toward my mother; not out of fear or worry, but rather out of responsibility - I am keeping track of my second charge. At once, I realize she is no longer on the train, and as my daughter and I begin to disembark, I catch sight of Mom walking the final stretch of land leading toward the City in the distance.

Effortlessly, she carries a bag in each hand; her body flowing and aligned. With head held high, she remains facing forward; never once looking back. She no longer needs help to carry her belongings - she is strong and able; she no longer needs guidance in finding her destination - she knows exactly where she is going; she no longer is concerned that I might be lagging behind, nor that her grand-daughter might need tending - she knows I will be along in my own time and I will take care of my daughter all the while till then.

I am compelled to take a second glance, but by then, she has vanished from my sight, leaving nothing more than a glorious ray of sunshine in her place...

Good bye, Mom. I miss you more than words can say.