Reunion

Someday, when I'm old,
and someone asks if I'm looking forward to heaven,
I'll say I'm eager to see my Father,
but there's someone else I want to see too.
I'll say
it's been forty or fifty years since I've seen her,
and the time we spent together was all too brief -
an hour or two,
that's all -
and she was so tiny and frail.
I spent that time trying to memorize her.
I never had a chance to find out who she was
or what she was like -
what she could have done,
what she could have been,
but she was my child,
flesh of my flesh,
my own,
and I love her
with limitless love.
My other children grew up
and grew older with me,
but this one -
the one I'm longing to see -
stayed the same through the years;
her face fixed in my memory
like a faded snapshot,
its corners worn
from too much handling.
Through the years,
the good and bad times,
I've dreamed of that distant reunion
and imagined the moment
I could look her in the eyes
and say,
Darling,
your momma's missed you,
but we'll never be apart again.

-Author Unknown