A Motherly Sighting

          The last time I saw my mother was fifteen years ago. I was eating lunch at Gespie's Italian Restaurant. Just as I was ordering my meal, she walked past me to be seated and did not even acknowledge me. She was seated two tables in front of me. All I could do was stare at her and wonder why she left.

          She stared back at me with no hint of recognition. Did I change that much? When I last was in her presence, I was nine years old. Since then I graduated high school, obtained a B.A. in Psychology and became engaged. There has been so much that she has missed.

          In the middle of my thoughtss, my order arrived. As I ate, I thought more about this woman whom I have wanted to help me. Where does she live? Did she divorce Dad? Did she remarry? Do I have other siblings? So many questions bombarding my brain. My mind is so occupied that I almost poke out my lip with my fork. As I continue eating and dreaming, a shadowy figure approaches me.

          "Is your name Rachel Dayton?"

          As I dropped my fork and tried to fasten my agape mouth, I realized that I was looking at the woman who I have not seen or heard from in fifteen years.

         "Yes, I am Rachel Dayton. Can I help you?"

          "Yes. I noticed that you have been staring at me since I arrived. You are making me feel uncomfortable. I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone. I left for a reason."

         "You look familiar to me. I think you are my mother. Would you like to join me ?"

          "No, thank you. Just to answer your questions, I will tell you a few things. Yes, I am your mother. I am Corinne. I did divorce your father six months after I left. I was not happy in the marriage. I needed more that your father was willing to give. You look good. How have you been?"

          "I have so many questions for you. Why did you just leave me? You left no note. You never called me on my birthdays or holidays. I missed you so much."

          As I was venting to her, I noticed that we were making a scene and people were looking at us in wonderment. This did not seem to bother Corinne. It did, however, bother me. I felt the hair stand on the back of my neck, and suddenly felt hot with anger.

          "You are an adult now. Get on with your life. Forget about me. I am sure your father has."

          "My father is dead."

          With that remark, Corinne walked out the restaurant's door, turned left and disapppeared. I paid my bill and left and tried to regain my composure. I was spent.