There is a moment after a question has been asked and before the answer has been given, in which all is possible. It hangs suspended, open to assumption, hope, wish, optimism and even pessimism.
The morning before Thanksgiving, my mother looked up at me and asked, "are you my daughter"? It was a precious moment. I knew that for the first time in months she had awareness of being a mother, awareness however fleeting ...of me. My answer that morning and her subsequent response aren't as important as that moment. For that, I am grateful.
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