When I met my mother face to face, for the first time that I could remember, it felt strange. Not happy, just odd. I knew it was her. Her face was strangely familiar, yet I didn’t feel anything. I was detached from the scene, not sure what to do next. It was winter. Snow was underfoot. She wore a big coat. She was wearing makeup and looked nice. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I would love her until I died. She had my heart from before I knew her, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wished I felt more, but I could not.
I was with my husband and 13 year old daughter. It was too much. It was not enough.
She spoke fast. She looked scared. She seemed nervous. I was in love. I wanted her to love me. I didn’t know what to think. She was a real person, not just a dream. I never thought I’d actually see her face again. I knew I was real, then.
I wanted to scream,WHY? I wanted to shake her, I wanted to slap her, I wanted to hug her. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted her to take care of me. I wanted to feel more. I wanted more.