Her words caught my attention, the potato masher in my hand stopped, the steam from the pan warming my face.
...the daughter, about 30 years old, searching the faces of a rescue center, looking at each person, the pleading tone obvious though her words were foreign to me, asking...
...do you know my mother?
...have you seen her?
...then a cry, then another...
...mother and daughter embrace...
...the lost is found...
...mother and daughter reunited.
Suddenly I was so very, very grateful that I didn't have to wonder, didn't have to think about her suffering or worry that she had been scared....suddenly, I was just very grateful that I was with her when she left...
...and I know exactly where she is...
...and who she's with.
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