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I walked out of an internet cafe yesterday. When I saw a figure siiting on a bench, waiting for a bus. I saw from the back the same build and hair style. I even whispered the words " Mom, is that you?!" My mind went into a race on how she could have gotten here and why she was just sitting there. I walked over just to see.

No, it was not my mother. How could it? I'm here in Japan. She can't afford such a trip. So I grab my smokes and light one up. I walk down the street. Looking back for just a sec, in hope. Yet again no.

The encounter was one of joy and terror. To see my mother, hoping she came to say, " I love you and I am truely proud of you my son. You've done well." To see truth in her eyes for once after all these years of deception.

Terror. Maybe she had come once again to try and control that which not hers to do so.

I continue to walk , smoking another. I stop and think. Why? I had not thought I saw anyone else from home in these past seven months why her? Then I got it. I wanted to see her because I wanted her to be my mom. To mend the what divided us. I wanted a Mother's love. Not her hate and lies. I wanted to be the good son.

However, in my family history, that will never happen. Now my world is a little colder, a little darker.