Under the crescent moon last night, I waited at the train station to meet my eldest son. He had only gone 15 miles to see a movie, gone only 3 hours, but my excitement to greet him, made me pause. I have dropped him off and picked him up loads of times without thinking about what I was doing. This time was different. I thought about his age. How soon trains will take him far from me, and how they will bring him back to me even if time beats the miles. That's when I recognized the hidden mother in me. That's when I realized that the way I feel about him coming and going, building confidence, finding interests, taking trips, long and short, without me, is exactly how my mother felt years before: excitement to watch me grow and super excitement welcoming me home. It is humbling, this push and the pull, this letting go and this gathering in, a perfect balance of moonlight hanging in utter darkness. I thought I knew this mother, but only now I recognize her face.