Sunday, November 06, 2011


Once in awhile, purely by chance, I will see an older man or woman who remind me of my father or mother.

This past week, it happened again.  Bill and I stopped at our local for drinks after work.  We were chatting and I looked up to see a woman about my Mom's age eating at a booth across the room.  It wasn't that she looked closely like my Mom (although she did, somewhat); it was more about her demeanor, how she glanced, and her eyes.  I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion I didn't realize was so close to the surface. I looked away immediately so as not to make eye contact, not to mention it was uncomfortable.  At this point it still hadn't dawned on me why it had hit me so hard.

My Mom (2001)
As  Bill and I continued to talk about our day, I would every-so-often look up towards the woman.  It eventually dawned on me where the emotion was coming from and why.  Another wave of emotion flooded my body and this time my eyes fought back tears. My internal dialogue went something like, "Mom, I wish so much you were here.  I miss you far more than I ever realized I would.  I remember you talking to me many times over the years about how you missed Grandpa, then later your own Mom, Grandma.  I thought I understood then.  I had no clue.  But I do now..."

I don't think missing my parents will ever go away.  But then, I don't want it to.