The last time I saw my mother was fifteen years ago. I was two, I remember that much. After that, it's kind of a blur. What I do know is that she was very, very important to me at the time and leaving her was the most devastating moment of my young life, a moment I can't ever forget.

Mom had been on her own, just her and I, because my dad had taken off. Where to, why, or even what my biological father's name was still a mystery to me today, and I don't particularly care either. I recall my mother's face as having soft, gentle features surrounding shockingly intense blue eyes – the eyes that I myself inherited. She had lighter hair that I did, and it fell loosely around her shoulders. I remember playing with it whenever she picked me up and her constant chiding of "No sweetheart, don't pull mommy's hair please," when I got too rough. She had a very musical voice, very soothing, and I don't think she ever yelled.

But she cried a lot, especially after those men came to the door. I remember not being able to understand why, after all, they seemed like nice enough people to me. The blonde one gave me candy and played with my while the other talked to Mom in the kitchen. After a few hours, they left, and as I waved bye, I could feel Mom looking at me with a very strange expression, one of sadness, fear, worry and anger all mixed together. I said nothing about it. But the sobs coming from Mom's room during the next three weeks told me that something was very wrong.

After those three weeks had passed, they came back. Mom had packed up a lot of my belongings a few days before, telling me that I was going on a trip without her.

Alone?! my mind raced. I was instantly scared. I started crying. Couldn't she come? Where was I going? What was I going to do there? But my questions went unanswered as she kissed me good-bye, handed me to the blonde man, told me to be a good boy and that she loved me. I whispered through my tears, "I love you Mommy."

Mom was sobbing the whole time.

The blonde man, who said his name was Odin Lowe and would become the only father I ever knew, carried me to a big truck and buckled me up in the back. I don't remember the other man's name, but that didn't matter. Odin told me that I was very special and because of that, I was going to help the people of the colony, but I barely heard him. I was too busy looking out the window, face pressed against the glass with my left hand alongside it, tears streaming down my face. I watched my mother intently, trying to desperately cling to the only family I had as the truck started. I wanted out. I wanted to run back to Mom and hold on to her skirt while I cried and she told me that everything was all right, we could go home now and live happily ever after, like the people in my books. But the straps of the care seat held me back, so I twisted around best I could, watching my mother get smaller and smaller as the truck pulled away, until she was nothing more than a speck in the distance that eventually faded away.

That was the last I saw of her. I didn't even have a picture.

My "training" began right away. I learned about weapons and tactics, battles and strategies, politics and governments alongside my ABC's, 123's and the colours of the rainbow. I became lost in my upbringing, barely thinking of my mother during the six years I was with Odin. After that, everything played out. I met Doctor J, became pilot 01, code name Heero Yuy, after the assassinated leader of the space colonies… for a time, I forgot about my mother. Then the shock would hit and I would hit and I would berate myself endlessly for it.

But that's changed now. I'm sitting in a little coffee shop in the downtown area of the town I was born in. A few weeks ago, I received a letter from a woman who had seen me at some diplomatic function and thought I might be her long-lost son. She used my real name in the letter, and it was strange to see it. The handwriting felt familiar, and inside was a picture of my mother and I.

I didn't want to go. I really didn't want to go. I was afraid. What if it was a mistake? What if this was just some crackpot old lady trying to get close to the kid who'd saved the world? But I kicked myself, knowing she couldn't be that old and maybe, just maybe, I could be what they called "normal" once again.

It seems like she's late, but I'm early… and there she is. In walks a petite woman, with soft, gentle features surrounding shockingly intense blue eyes and lighter hair than mine that falls loosely around her shoulders. My breath catches in my lungs, my hands begin to shake, and I will myself to stand. It has to be her. I call out, tentatively, Mom.

She turns to me, and her eyes flicker brightly. She speaks my name, my real name, and although foreign-sounding, a sense of security washes over me at the sound. Her voice is gentle and soothing, just like I remembered it. I nod, smiling weakly, and a huge grin flies over her face while her eyes glisten with tears. She walks towards me, I open my arms, and we embrace warmly clinging to the only family we have. Crying freely, I whisper four words I haven't said in fifteen years.

"I love you Mommy."