Adjusting to losing her, there is another, unexpected process under way as well. Where once I would not have stopped to notice, now when I look into the mirror, I see my mothers face in mine. I hear the soft, distinctive pace of her footsteps as I climb the stairs, feel the rhythm of her hands as I pick up my knitting at the end of the day. The
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Did you always look like your mother or is it something you're seeing as you get older?
Absent but never gone.
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<3
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