accompanies that moment, like the warm sun filtering through the open curtains and
the dancing dust particles suspended in mid air performing intricate
manoeuvres around one another.
I remember to this day the smell of the glass of orange juice my mother poured for me.
She stood in the doorway smiling at me, the sun catching her radiant face and smile of
an angel. I could feel her love and I sensed how excited she was that I was going on this
trip with my father. That validation alone made me feel that everything in the world was
alright. My parents may not be in love with each other anymore, but I knew they loved
us always. It’s funny how a complex idea such as this can be communicated in a simple
moment like my mother standing in a doorway with a glass of orange juice.
With a little last minute help I was all geared up, ready to rock and roll, all I needed now
was to make it past my little sister without too much trauma. I heard the familiar
hooting sound outside our house, my father has arrived and added a little extra beep
beep to the end of what sounded like a car generated orchestra to me because I was so
I had my backpack on and mom was kissing me out the door and giving me some last
minute instructions which never really found any landing place in my hearing, when
suddenly out of nowhere she arrived. My little sister had a knack for dramatic entrances.
My mother sensed danger and did what any loving mother would do, she kissed me on
my forehead and whispered “you’re on your own for this one bear,” she smiled and
went up to the gate to greet my father.
I tried not to make eye contact, I knew that if I did she would have me in her grasp and I
would be powerless, but it was like a magnet and I was drawn to her watery eyes. A
strange thing happened though, a wondrous thing, she ran up to me and threw her arms
around me telling me through her sobs how she was going to miss me, and she made