"…And the prince and princess lived happily ever after. The end" My mother placed to book on my nightstand, and stood up straightening out her dress.

"Mama? Do you believe that love is real?" I looked up at my mother with my big brown eyes as she began to tuck me into bed.

"Of course sweetie. Look at me and your father." My mother kept her focus on my sheets rather than looking at me. "Now, you've brushed your teeth, said your prayers, AND got a bedtime story. Now it is time to be a good girl and go to sleep." My mother had quickly ended the conversation of love.

"Do you think I will ever find love mama?" I pressed. My mother stopped fussing with my sheets and looked me deep in the eye.

"Winifred. Love is a gift. It is rare to find. And it must be cherished when it is possessed. " She leaned in and kissed the top of my forehead. "Now you really must go to sleep."

"Goodnight mama. I love you"

My mother looked at me smiled before turning for the door. I shut my eyes and snuggled into the sheets, and just before my mother left, she turned and whispered "Goodnight my angel."

I opened my eyes and quickly shut them as the sun glared down on me. It was April 9th, and I was leaving tomorrow on the Titanic, to see my mother in America for the first time since I was ten. As I lay in bed I quickly reviewed what my dream was about. I thought back to when I was six years old, living in London with my mother and father. They were so much in love, always laughing and playing, even though it wasn't a decent display in public, but it always gave me hope.

Shortly after, my father passed away, taking my mothers' happiness with him. She never was the same. He left our family with just enough money for mother to keep up our status. Just as mother was skimming the bottom of the barrel with money she met husband number 2. He was wealthy of course, and somewhat older. I always assumed that his wife had died young, and he was looking for another trophy. They were married for about a year until one day he never came back home.

When I was nine years old my mother left London to be with husband number three in America. I was left to stay in the care of my mother's sister while she freely explored another country leaving her, what I thought to be at the time, "mistake" back home.

Up until a week ago I haven't heard from my mother. I didn't know if she was still alive, or if she had other children, or if she was still with husband number three. It was ten years later, and I just finished celebrating my 19th birthday, when I got a letter in the mail from my mother. She was requesting my presence in America to help celebrate her ten year wedding anniversary. I guess it would be something to celebrate, seeing that none of my mother's relationships lasted longer than a full decade. I always thought that maybe my mother was looking for the love that she shared with my father. I never quite knew. The only thing I knew for certain was that my mother was no role model for love; and at this point in my life, I was positive it didn't even exist.

X

By this point I was just about finished packing my belongings into my trunks. My aunt insisted that I attend this anniversary, hoping that it might serve as some reconciliation for me and my mother. I didn't see the point but my aunt persisted. I honestly didn't know what I was going to say or what I was going to do when I saw her. For Christ sake, I didn't even know if I would recognize her, it had been so long.

As the day moved on I couldn't help shake the feeling of seeing my mother again. It was making me nervous and jittery. I couldn't keep any food down, nor could I sit in one place.

"Winnie, will you stop moving around like that. You are beginning to make me nervous!" my aunt joked to me. My aunt was a loving woman who took me in as one of her own. She didn't support my mothers' decision to leave me, but she did support the thought of forgiveness, which is something she stood firmly by.

"I just can't believe that in one weeks time I will be standing in her house, facing her, talking to her." I raised an octave with each passing thought. "What in God's name am I supposed to even say to her? Huh?" I looked at my aunt with a pained yet questioning look on my face. "Hello mother. It's been so long…literally!" I paced back and forth through my living room as my aunt just sat there working on her needle point.

"Get it out now sweetheart." My aunt retorted very monotone, not taking her eyes off her stitch. "God help me if tomorrow doesn't come any sooner…" She said sounding exasperated, and adding a subtle eye-roll.

I stopped mid pace, let out a long breath, and looked at my aunt. "I'm going to bed."

"Good. Any more of this pacing and I would have had a trench in my living room." My aunt chuckled to herself, still not removing her eyes from her work.

"Ugh!" I turned on my heel and marched upstairs to my bedroom. I quickly undressed and lay in bed waiting for sleep to overcome. But instead of the sleep I had hoped for, something else took over. An overwhelming sense of emotion, and before I knew it, tears were falling down my face. My mother's sudden return into my life had seriously affected me in a way I never thought possible. I turned on my side, and wept quietly into my pillow, until darkness overtook me.