For most of my life people have made comments about me looking like my mom. It used to upset me because I chose to view her through my wounds. I regret that now. Finally, I see her beauty. She was lit up from the inside, and I wish more than anything that I could tell her what I see.
When I compared a recent selfie with a photo I snapped of her a year before she passed, I was shocked how much of her I saw in my own face. Yes, I look a lot like my dad, those Clayton genes (and chins) are STRONG, but I also see my mama. The eyes, the smile, the asymmetrical nose, the salt and pepper hair, the similar face shape.
After a year of missing her a little more each day, I no longer grow irritated to see our physical similarities. I have also begun to accept some of our shared personality "quirks", a few I most decidedly wish I had NOT inherited 😂, but there are some that make me proud. I followed after her in my faith, it is deep and solid, and continues to grow. I took after her and became strong and resilient after surviving childhood trauma, a life-threatening health crisis, and harrowing life circumstances, just like she did. I am loyal to a fault when treated right, and devoted to those I love, as was she. And she taught me how to love dogs, books, and music, all things that bring joy to me in this crazy life.
Obviously, I am still a work in progress and will discover more similarities, good and bad, but I hope that I can at least love and serve others as faithfully, joyfully, and selflessly as she did.
Love you mama, I hope you're dancing with daddy today.
