Lost And Found

Lost and Found
13 years ago I found my birth Mother. She's been over at my house this weekend working and spending time with me and her grandson. I never grow tired of watching her. Listening to her. Enjoying having her in my life.
When you grow up without blood relatives, you are fascinated when you come in contact with people who share your DNA. I remember the first thing I thought when I saw my (birth) Mother for the first time.
She has my eyes.
My adopted mother had told me that my birth mother had blue eyes. I grew up staring into my eyes in the mirror's reflection thinking I was looking at my father's eyes. Chocolate brown. I wished so often they were blue.
13 years ago she stepped off a plane, walked up an airport ramp and into my life. A tiny framed woman with soft blond hair and chocolate brown eyes.
With the exception of my son, I have not loved anyone as deeply as I do her. This delicate person who gave me life.
They say the eyes are the window of the soul. I agree. For if you look in mine you'll see the reflection of my mother, in the window of my soul.