This evening, in a brief moment of solitude, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and as I often do, I studied my own curious eyes. They're somewhat mismatched, a crazy color and, most amazingly, an almost mirror image of the eyes of my mom and my Grandma. Outside the bathroom door hangs this photo. My Grandma gave it to me and wrote on the back of it, so that I'd know my mom was "about four" when it was taken. About the same age as my little Lulu. I look at it often and am always filled with a sort of pride and big love for these two remarkable women, in whose faces I clearly see myself and my history.
I see the gorgeous and glamourous Billye. Her stylish hair, beautiful shoulders and Hollywood lips. I see my mommy's little feet and they look like my daughter's. These women represent a past that existed long before I drew breath and they are the future. In my son and daughter, and their families to follow.
If I have the good fortune, one day, of seeing a set of unusual, green-ish speckled egg eyes in a grandchild of my own, I'll say "Hello, Grandma. I love you."
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