Hard to name

I was sitting at a railroad intersection yesterday waiting for the train to go by. It is right at a bend of the New River where you can look up to the top of a mountain and see it reflected in the water. I was admiring the view, enjoying the pause that the train enforced, when I thought "One day I will be sitting at this same intersection, looking at this same mountain, and I will think to myself, "My Mother is dead." Today I can look at the scene and know that even though she is not with me, she is alive, breathing, living her life, and I can still pick up the phone and call, buy things she might like, forward her things she would enjoy, visit her any time. Just the fact that she IS has been a fact of my daily existence my whole life and I wonder what it will be like to lose that certainty. And yet I was realizing at the same time that my life will, can, and should go on, that I will be crossing that intersection again and again.