The in-between moments.

     A very contented, slightly weepy mum departed Graz, this past Sunday. Thankfully, the weepy part lasted only a moment. It's that moment when the plane lifts and you know you are leaving a part of your heart behind, tucked somewhere between the last hug and good-bye kiss.  Soon, a clear view of the Austrian hillsides, bathed in autumn sunlight had me smiling.  Thoughts of our silly family conversations and exchanges shoved the weepies far away. This had been a successful excursion and not too taxing on either our daughter, or ourselves; although later, I paid for all that walking and stair climbing.
     Well, I sat back in my seat, recalling several exchanges with my twenty-two year old daughter. Chuckling to myself, I gazed out the Ryanair window.  Now, this is what I wish to share. There were those times, after having asked my darling girl various questions about some particular food, or on the produce markets, or clarification of a local term, my daughter would for a mere second or two, stare into my eyes as if I were speaking gerbil-lese, (The language probably goes something like this: "Squeak, squeak, --- squeak-squeak---squeakers.") I hold that memory and smile because despite whatever my sweet daughter thinks, I truly don't know the language of gerbils.
     I must admit to the fact that my daughter and I, often have verbal waltzes and usually, we come to a comfortable understanding, but other times I still get that blank stare, the one that seems to ask, "What planet are you from?"and "Are you really my mother?" This has been going on since my child was four and I suspect it will continue like this until I view my last sunrise or sunset. I've also learned to cherish all these moments. I simply share this for all the moms who have learned to keep smiling, because we know what we know.