The Journey Inward

Visiting my daughter in Miami,
We walked a block in the rain,
To a little place she likes to eat,
To order food and bring it back to her place.

As we were checking out,
(She in front of me as I was more indecisive,)
I handed her my credit card to pay,
But as I approached the cash register,
I saw her card poised to swipe.
With a quick hand, I snatched my card and tapped it,
Before she could submit hers,
And we laughed.

There was a young woman ringing us up,
Pausing in the transaction, she looked directly at us,
And quietly said, "I miss my mom."
My eyes teared up immediately,
And I said, "Call her and tell her,
She’d love to hear that."
And we headed back out into the rain.

I couldn't help but wonder,
As we hopped over puddles,
If she could call her mom.
Were they in touch?
Was she alive?
I had presumed it was as simple as a phone call,
When truly I knew nothing more,
Than before me had stood a girl,
Missing her mom.

I looked over at my daughter with adoration,
With gratitude and love,
And as we stepped into the elevator,
I caught sight of our reflection in the closing door,
And thought I saw the silhouette of a third woman alongside us.
I thought to myself,
"I miss my mom, too."