I stare at my reflection and see my mother looking back at me. My mother, who has been gone for 25 years, is still with me, every day.
I’ve fallen in love and had my heart-broken a few more times since she left and each time, she was there. She shared my joy and gave me comfort during my sadness.
“What a testament to the kind of mother she was” I think, that I can still see myself reflecting in her eyes.
But as I age, I find what I miss most, is not my mother, but the woman, who was my mother.
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
I’m having connection problems so am going to apologize in advance. Truth is, I can read your stories but am having trouble commenting. I really need a new computer. 😦