My son said dinner was canceled, but when I got to the restaurant…

You have a busy life, she remarked when I returned with the tray. I didn’t realize you were so… active. A lot of people didn’t realize it.

I poured the tea into cups, including myself. We sat down at a small table by the window. Thelma was clearly nervous, not knowing where to start the conversation.

The ceremony was beautiful, she said finally. Wesley called me, told me. He was… impressed.

Thank you. I sipped my tea. I’m glad it went well.

Mom. Thelma took a deep breath. I owe you an apology for that night at the restaurant.

For all these years, we… I… did wrong. I stared at her in silence, waiting for her to continue. I don’t know how things got this way, she continued, staring into her cup.

We were close once. And then… then everyday life, the worries, the store… it all seemed to come between us. I forgot that you’re not just a mom who’ll always be there for me.

You’re a person, with your own feelings, desires, plans. For the first time in a long time I saw sincerity in her eyes. Thank you for those words, Thelma, I said quietly.

They mean a lot to me. I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. She twirled the cup nervously in her hands.

I realize that trust doesn’t rebuild quickly. But I want to try. I want to be a part of your life again, a real part.

Not just a daughter who calls once a month. I looked at my daughter, seeing her not only as a grown woman with graying temples, but also as a little girl who once came to me with her joys and sorrows. Maybe there was still something of that little girl left in her.

I wish there was, I said at last. But you’re right, trust must be rebuilt gradually, day by day. We talked into the evening.

For the first time in years we had a real conversation instead of just a few sentences. And when Thelma left promising to come back over the weekend, I stayed at the window, looking out at the darkening sky and the lights of the city. My new life was just beginning.

A life in which I was not just a mother, a grandmother, a widow, but above all, myself. Edith Thornberry, a woman with so much to look forward to.