Friday, May 31, 2013

Becoming my Mom

In many ways I am turning into my Mom. I've known it for years.  In my early twenties, I heard myself saying the things my Mom says, or standing as she stands.  A weird sense of deja vu would wash over me and it felt as if my Mom were living in me. 

As I grew older, I found more of my mother in me, in other ways.  The medicines that bother her, and had never bothered me, suddenly started to affect me.  Now sudafed keeps me awake at night, just as it does for her.  My body shape, which had always been more like my Dad's side of the family than my Mom's, started to look more like Mom as I reached my mid-late thirties.

Facially, I look more like my Dad and his Mom than my Mom.  But, I have her eyebrows, and her mouth.  It's the mouth that is betraying me again. 

As a teen, I discovered that when my Mom listened intently to my stories, her mouth moved with mine.  She'd mouth the words I spoke as I spoke them.  Not in full motion, but enough to notice her lips moving.  It was cute and we teased her about it.  Just earlier this year I joked to my sister at a family gathering that Mom's lips still moved if she listened intently to our stories. 

I thought this was a trait unique to my Mom, an extension of the Mom opening her mouth while feeding a baby, I guess.  Until last night.  Last night, my 16 year old daughter suddenly stopped talking, covered my mouth with her hand, and said, "Would you stop that!?!" 

"Stop what?" I asked, suspicion rearing its head. 

"Stop moving your lips when I talk! I hate it when you do that!" 

Ack!  Betrayed by my own mouth.  Becoming my mother yet again!  I had no idea that I too was guilty of the sympathetic speech weirdness until then.  I'd told the kids about Mom doing that before but they hadn't tell me I did it, too. Traitors! What will be next, I wonder?

And then there are the deja vu moments I realize I am sitting, moving, looking just like my Dad ...

These deja vu moments remind me how important my actions are.  That one day my daughters (and sons) will feel this same deja vu and my grandchildren will be seeing me through their parents' words and actions.  I am setting an example (for multiple generations) in everything I do. 

I need to pray harder, because I need more of God's grace and love to set the right example.

April E.

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