‘Why, it’s you indeed.’
Her whole being vibrates with energy so much that if I wasn’t sure she must be at least 42, I would estimate her to be thirty something. I’m drinking in the sight, hardly believing this beautiful woman is my mother. We face one another in a silly little moment, admiring the other, until she makes a move towards me at last and embraces me. Paralysed, I allow it to happen, then I manage to lift my arms to return the hug. It’s all surreal, as if it wasn’t even happening to me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I think my emotions are overwhelmed. It takes a little time until I realize who is holding me in her arms. By the time a teardrop rolls down my cheek, she has pushed me away from her, to study me thoroughly. She’s not crying, she’s shedding no tears, but he
