Mom stops by to share for our Tub-Full Tuesday feature. Enjoy!
When you are young, you never think you resemble anyone but your divine self. You cringe when Aunt Mary declares to the whole family reunion you are the spitting image of Beulah May Greer. From discussions around the table, you know this is not a compliment, at all. You’ve garnered from these tell-alls the woman had a hawk nose, beady eyes, a low narrow forehead, drab hair, and a slight harelip. The more you hear, the more you feel akin to the Hunchback, but as a youngster, you’d much rather be Morticia.Recently, the idea of favoring family has become precious. As you get older, the sweetness of those imperfections marries you into a unit of generations of people, all different and all unique. I have noted in the last two years, I am favoring my mother more and my dad’s family less. I actually see her when I look into the mirror. I’m honored, although the resemblance is as my mother aged, not in her former beauty. The mirror may be insidious at times, but I am thankful to see my heritage spread deep and wide on my being. Here’s the poem I wrote about this.
Mirror of Fate
It refuses to lie even
in dim light -
I pull and stretch
It continues to mock
I hoped this filled your tub today.
What is your favorite part of aging? Least favorite?