There are only a handful of life experiences that result in a definitive before and after. I now know that losing a parent is one of those. 

My mom passed away on Sunday, Aug. 14, after a three-year battle with cancer. While she had been sick a long time, her death was unexpected and sudden. The week before she passed, she took my two little boys to the North Carolina Zoo. We knew she was getting worse, but she was fighting and still responding to some of her treatments. We thought she had much more time left in her. 

The instant the guitar chords echoed from the Mexican restaurant speakers, a slight grin emerged on my face. Immediately, the Asheville traffic disappeared from my urban patio view, where all I could see was that old farm town — far away physically, but oh so close emotionally.

It took me a couple seconds to realize where I was.

What are you afraid of?

I could see it in their faces.

It was something I felt before, and also had seen in pictures taken long ago of myself. It was that feeling of a sincere and honest connection to another human being, where you find yourself standing at the exact spot of your euphoric destiny, hand-in-hand with your significant other — it was (and is) love. 

You never forget where you came from.

It is the eternal quest.

It snuck up on me.

I stepped out of the airport and into the afternoon sunshine.

That space between freedom and responsibility.