you look like your mom

I always think it's funny when I hear this conversation:

"Wow, your hair is really long."

"Thanks."

Does that sound like a compliment? I would say that is a pretty big assumption. Saying someone's hair is long might not mean something positive. I'm sure we've all seen beautiful, long hair. But I have definitely seen my share of long hair that is unhealthy and unflattering, clogging up drains, and swinging around into people's faces. That's my opinion, but I am guessing other people might just feel the same way.

The same goes for people who tell you that you look like someone. I have caught myself telling little girls that they look like their dads, only to get a frown. Little girls, more often than not, want to look like big girls, not big boys. I am happy to tell a mom her son looks just like her, but tell the boy--no way! I have always been conscious of my nose. It's not a bad nose, really, just bigger than average. I spent so much time as a teenage girl, wishing my nose would just shrink a little bit. I envied those girls with cute little noses. I don't know where this nose came from, exactly, but I'm guessing my kids would not welcome the observation: "Your nose is just like your mother's." I would hope they wouldn't think about rhinoplasty or anything, but they'd be less than thrilled to say the least.

When I was visiting my family in Pennsylvania a few months ago, my uncle said I looked like my Mom. I've heard so many times that I look like my dad's side of the family--a Caldwell. I'm lucky to look like a Caldwell. My dad is one of the most handsome men I've seen. But there has always been a part of me, a big part, that wanted to look like my Mom. I have blond hair and blue eyes, and she had brown hair and brown eyes. She had the kindest and most beautiful face I think I've ever seen. Her beauty came from inside, too, but she really was the most classically beautiful woman I've ever known. so when my Uncle Ben said I looked like my mom, my heart leapt with joy. Maybe I was looking particularly angelic because I was standing in front of the church. Maybe I made a face like she would have made, or maybe the sweater and dress I had on reminded him of something she'd worn. Whatever it was, I'm sure he had no idea how thrilled I would be to think that even though we haven't seen Mom since she died almost two years ago, I was here, reminding someone of her!

This post is self indulgent, but it felt great to write about Mom. I miss her so much, and it was wonderful to think about her while I write what is becoming my daily blog. I know it's probably pretty normal to adore your mother, but I'll never stop thinking about the wonderful person she was. And I'm just tickled that someone would actually think that even just a little bit of me is like she was!