Earlier this week I had to catch a plane to California, and even though I checked in over 45 minutes before departure they told me they didn’t have a seat for me. They had overbooked the plane and to compensate they volunteered me to stick around the airport for another six hours...
...because I had already had a monumentally bad day I bit my upper lip to muffle an almost unnoticeable string of tears. I was upset that the situation seemed so unfair, upset that I was standing there alone under the weight of that injustice and no one else had an obligation to care...
...I stopped suddenly to scan the faces in the crowd only to see my mother standing twenty feet in front of me, my beautiful, perfect mother. It seems ridiculous now, but in that moment it seemed as if she had appeared out of thin air, that she had dropped out of heaven. When I saw the features in her face, the way her cheekbones meet her thin nose in symmetrical angles, her milky complexion peeking out of the black of her business suit, I realized that everything was going to be okay. That was one of the most spiritual moments of my life.
I wanted to tell you that story because that is my hope for you, that no matter how far away you go or how different we may become — I know it’s going to happen, it’s only a matter of time — that when you see my face you will find strength. Look for me.
A don't-miss Monthly Newsletter from Heather at Dooce: a letter to her daughter that's also about being a daughter. If you miss the pictures, you really miss out, so go here and read it. An excerpt: