ABSTRACT
Talk about ironies. When my mother died, I knew deep in my bones that a lifetime connection had been severed. I had family, friends, work, and yet I felt cold and alone. And the one person I could have shared this with was my mother. She was the one person who would have understood, who might have said, "There, there, it's all going to be all right." It felt like the time I got lost in the bed linen section of Herberger's department store when I was a very small child. I wasn't certain my mother would ever find me. This time no one would page her. There would be no more reunions.
