Staring Into My Mother's Eyes

“So have you been to a place like this, to see your breath as it paints against the sky?” Umbrellas lyrics-The City Lights

Traffic on Abercorn that morning was lighter than usual, and I was almost twenty minutes ahead of my schedule. I drove with my left hand, the right wrapped around a Styrofoam coffee cup I had picked up on my way into town. It was maybe a little less than 40 degrees, but for me that was cold-so I switched hands between holding the wheel and carefully caressing my morning coffee. I weirdly had no music on; it was just me and my thoughts, my barely brushed tangles waving at me in the rearview mirror, and the backpack on the back seat-a reminder of burdens I carried occasionally with purposeful intent, but mostly subconsciously. I slowed to a stop when the light turned red and noticed her at the bus stop. She stood facing oncoming traffic, her brown trench coat wrapped completely around her. She was unconventionally beautiful, not delicate and wispy-she looked strong and firm yet feminine. Her stance disturbingly familiar, the lines on her face telling many tales-tales of broken promises, many years of waiting, many tears choked back-unwept, dreams deferred and love lost. She had clearly been intimate with brokenness and yet her eyes communicated a bizarre sense of peace. She must have been studying me too, because we made eye contact. I attempted the southern nod of acknowledgement which she did not return. She just gently gazed at me and when the light was green, I drove away shaking the eerie feeling that I was staring into my mother’s eyes.

Apart from the woman at the bus stop, screeching tires and the sound of breaking glass…I don’t seem to remember much from that morning. I didn’t see the black SUV speeding through the intersection in my direction, and I didn’t feel the air bag slap me in the face or my car door crumble violently into my side. I just know today, how to recognize the strange albeit amazing feeling I get when my mother is praying for me. I also know that I do not know very much at all.