Reflection

I can't see her anymore.

I stand there, staring. Peering deeply into the mirror.

But I can't find her.

I see the same brown eyes, but my vision drifts to the crinkles around them.

I see the dimples, but only when I force a smile.

I see thick brown hair, but again my vision drifts. It drifts to the crazy gray ones sticking here and there.

I step back. I scan the whole image.

But she's still missing.

I see a mom. Amelia's mom.

I see a provider of snacks and hugs.

I see a person who spends entirely too much time and energy thinking, worrying about toilet habits.

There? Is a woman who can pack a lunch, a suitcase, or a toy bag in 3 minutes flat.

This reflection? Shows an organized, efficient, dependable person.

Someone who will never let you down.

Someone whose heart may break, but only silently. Never burdening the outside world.

I search the image in the bathroom mirror. I gaze into the hallway mirror. And the car mirror.

The person I see is a good one. A good mom, a loyal wife. A hardworking, respectable employee.

But I miss her.

I try, oh how I try... but I can't find her.

I can't find me.