My tears are of joy. As I stand in the supermarket line and eagerly wait my turn while watching a daughter and Mother older than myself and my Mom would of been, happily chatting, I have to stop myself from staring in awe of their bond and joy that is unexplainable. Joy is not always shared by a Mother and daughter, but we are bonded to our Mothers. I was very grateful to call my Mom my friend. Yes, outside I smile with tears in my eyes, they are tears of joy, moments of sheer joy and memories that flood me as I stand sandwiched between carts and magazines. It happens, I love those moments, it brings me such gratitude of the gift that I had in my Mom and the warmth to share the love she instilled in me to others.
