Another Like Mother, Like Daughter

For as long as I can remember, my mother wore glasses. She tried the contacts thing when I first got contacts (as did my brother), but she didn't last long. Apparently she couldn't get past the "sticking her finger in her eye" thing. I remember I would giggle watching her try with all her might to put her contact lenses in. So, she pretty much stuck with glasses. I can't tell you how many pairs she had . . . one for when she did her hair and make up, one for when she was driving, one for when she was driving and it was sunny, one for when she was working. There were glasses everywhere. And, my mother looked so much better with her glasses than she did without her glasses.

Since I was around twelve years old, I've worn contact lenses. Since that time, I've probably owned two pairs of glasses, of which I've worn less than a handful of times and NOT likely worn in public. Every waking (and sleeping) moment, I had my contacts in my eyes. I couldn't imagine wearing glasses professionally as my mother did, let alone socially, as my mother did. I didn't think it really suited me.

Now, guess who has glasses? Yes, that would be me. Fancy shmancy new glasses. And, actually, I LOVE them. I picked them up yesterday and was like a kid in a candy shop. I kid you not. First, let me say, this is the first time I have ever been excited about a pair of glasses. EVER. Second, these are the coolest glasses I've ever had. Why, you may be wondering . . . Well, let's see, I went all out for these glasses which means they have transition lenses, ultra-thin lenses (well, as thin as you can get with my prescription, but still incredibly thin!), scratch-resistant lenses (that came with a certificate of authenticity?!) and anti-glare coverage. Wow - that was quite a mouthful. And honestly, my eyes are soooo happy that I don't have my contacts in right now. In fact, I haven't had my contacts in since yesterday afternoon. I can't tell you the last time I did that!

So, yes I am wearing my glasses professionally and socially. Hmmm . . . sounds like my mother. But, my glasses are a little hipper than hers. I guess in some ways, it's not such a bad thing to be like my mom, huh?

PS. The contacts are NOT retired!

Perspective

As each year passes since my mother died goes by, it still seems surreal. It still seems . . . unreal. But, what I do know and think about each year is just how much my mother's daughter I truly am. To be honest, I never thought I'd ever say something like that about me and my mother. To me, I thought to be like her would be the worst thing EVER. But, as the days pass . . . I couldn't be prouder of the fact that I truly am my mother's daughter. And that it's evident, even in some of the simplest and silliest ways. When I recognize the similarities, all I do is smile and laugh to myself. In other cases, I'll just say something to the effect of I have my mother to thank. And most times, I'm not being sarcastic.

I thought of this very topic last night while I was going home from work. It was later than I usually leave, so it was dark and rainy. After driving for a bit, I noticed my back was hurting as were my eyes. I took a minute to think about it and realized I was death gripping the steering wheel and squinting - yes, there it was . . . the lack of night vision that my mother has bestowed upon me. All I could do was shake my head, smile and chuckle quietly to myself.

In almost every way now, I am my mother's daughter. I am capable of her temper, incredible stubbornness and perseverence. I have her appreciation for the finer things in life, both shopping and dining, as well as her flair for being ridiculously silly. And while I revel in these thoughts, I have to wonder how my father feels about that. Whether when he looks at me, does he see my mother. And if he does . . . does he hate me for it? Those questions never occurred to me before until recently. It was pointed out to me that while I may feel abandoned by my remaining family members - it is appropriate to think about how my father must feel in comparison to the sadness I feel because my mother isn't here.

My father's partner of 25+ years is no longer here. He is a retired doctor . . . he couldn't save/ cure her. Their children remain one of whom is a daughter that in many ways is like his deceased wife. What he must feel when he looks at me . . . and then I wonder, what does he see. In so many ways, much of how my mother was is now a part of me - from the lack of night vision to making sure parties are planned for appropriately to the headstrong personality.

Being my mother's daughter . . . curse or blessing in disguise?