The last rays of the day filtered gently through the window bathing the room in a surreal, golden light as she stood behind me carefully brushing my honey-coloured hair.
Two generations apart reflected in the old mirror with the tarnished corners.
I watched her face as she brushed rhythmically and saw unusual tenderness on her eastern european face. A naked, vulnerable expression of love, acceptance and peace reflected back at me.
A privileged moment shared.
The sun lowered, the light altered and her expression reverted one more reminiscent of the cold, war-torn country she left behind so many decades ago.
That fleeting, perfect point in time was gone but remains forever captured in my mind, like a treasured photograph.