My daughter looked out through the passenger window, at me. Standing on the opposite pavement, I looked back. We’d just bundled her many bags into the Uber, as she set off on her long journey back to the US. 

The driver started the engine and she raised her hand to wave. I waved back, and all at once found myself hurtled into a time warp. The moment froze, the years melded – there was my little girl, my little girl of yesterday and the strong young woman of today, looking out the window at me. It’s weird what the heart can do, swelling in my breast, altering my perception in an uncanny but real way.

I’m happy to see her go on her own way, I said. I’ll miss her, I thought. In moments of heightened emotion, love hurts, I felt.