Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Whose reflection do I recall?
Could it be my mother’s face smiling back at me?
I would never have guessed
That I would live long enough
To see my mother’s likeness
Staring right back at me.
It was just yesteryear
That I would remark,
"Who’s that old lady in the mirror?
Is that what I have become to be?"
Now I am thankful to be reminded of she
Whenever I pass a mirror and see,
My wonderful Mom is still with me.

INTERLUDE

I can recall as a child lying upon my mother’s bed with elbows bent, my hands cupped in my chin. I’m enthralled as I watched my mother’s reflection in the mirrored vanity. She’s sitting with her back to me and she’s combing her beautiful tresses. Her hair was thick and luscious, as black as a Raven’s feathers and it glistened like black coal. She smiles back at me as she tends to her task. She coifs her hair in a simple style making the most of her natural waves.

Years later she would develop a streak of gray about a half inch wide that would start at her forehead and end somewhere at the end of her crown. Her hair remained radiant with not a trace of gray in any other part of her head. That’s how I want to remember her.

Mother was taken away from us when she was in her late fifties. Two of my children were just toddlers at the time. She never got to see my youngest son born. I’ll always remember her kind ways and smiling face. Even with her suffering and pain from a vascular condition that lasted 15 years, she would never complain and remained cheerful and thankful for the time that she had spent on this earth.

And so it goes
With the passing days,
And throughout the years,
My children will soon be heard
To repeat these familiar words.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Whose reflection do I recall?
Could it be my mother’s face smiling back at me?
No stranger there will they see!
The image staring back at them,
Will certainly be one of me.
Isn’t it nice to know?
That with each passing generation,
The family resemblance will always show.