The sun’ll come out…

I have my momma’s scowl.  Eh, I don’t know if it’s a scowl exactly, but I do know that whenever she was thinking about something or doing something, especially an activity that required a downward glance, a little frown would tug at her lips.  As she got older and went through a couple of big weight changes, the little frown became more pronounced.  It didn’t mean she was unhappy; no, she was just doing something. 

I noticed the same little frown on my face the other day.  I was getting ready for work and had looked down into the drawer for my eye liner or mascara or something of equal importance.  When I looked back up into the mirror, there was my mom, staring back at me.  It kind of shocked me a bit.  And then it was okay.

Remember that scene in “Beaches” where not-Bette-Midler is dying and suddenly has a panic attack because she can’t remember what her mother’s hands look like?  I don’t believe I’ll ever have the problem when it comes to remembering my mom.  We have the same feet- I noticed that a long time ago.  And we sit the same way when we’re reading on the couch or in a chair.  Which leads to the fact that we get up the same.  I’m not suggesting that there are zillions of different ways to get out of a chair, but I noticed a long time back that my mom and I move the same way when doing that particular action.  Our hands and nails are similar- not exact replicas, but very close.  And now I have the frown.  I am my mother’s daughter.  I’ve never been able to deny it.

Once, when I was in high school I think, I asked my mother if there was anything about me that I got from my biological dad.  I used to joke that mom didn’t “have” me- she created me like a starfish- just cut off an arm and I grew from that.  Anyway, when I asked, she replied, “Your stomach.  You carry all your extra weight in your stomach, just like him.”  After a bit of a backwards glance, I wandered off and thought, “Oh really?”  I guess it was a bit of a double whammy then, huh?  It was never destined for me to be skinny.

Thanks Mom.  For the hands and feet and frown… and even the stomach (I mean, thanks Craig).

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Posted in Mom

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