The love of a woman -
Although precious,
Is still external,
A wonderful, glorious view,
A panorama to be seen,
All outside and good...

But Hannah, my only child,
She is internal too
Part of me,
An extension of my flesh,
A bond, not mystical or imagined,
But physical and emotional.
Loving her is natural,
Painful and exquisite
I am in her eyes,
In loving her I love myself;
My own childhood, my needs,
Are in her innocent face;
Her laughter is my own,
Her cry is my sorrow.

My sense of loss compounded:
I feel her feeling of loss,
This inevitable separation,
This "best way":
How it hurts!
She may blame me,
She may feel rejected,
But she is not,
She will never be rejected.

If only that one fact
Could resolve all emotions.