It’s official. I have turned into my mother.

by Lorin Michel Tuesday, September 1, 2015 10:34 PM

For almost all of my life, when I would look in the mirror, I would see aspects of my dad looking back at me. The shape of my eyes, with a slight downward tilt, the slight hook of my nose, the ruddy skin, the thinning hair. First-born girls often look like their dad; first-born boys often look like their mom. Other kids are usually a combination of the two.

I remember when my dad passed away, talking with my Aunt Trene in my sister’s kitchen. She said I looked tired. I smiled and said, proudly, “I look like my dad.”

Lately, though, it’s not my dad I see. It’s my mom, or actually a combination of my mother and her mother. I wonder if this is how it happens. We start out looking like one before finally becoming the other. I think that’s what’s happening. And it’s not just that I see her face looking back at me. I sound like her, too. 

I have long sounded like my mother, or so I've been told. I think that's common, too. I know my brother sounds just like my dad. I love talking to him because he's my brother but I also love that I can still hear my dad's voice every once in a while, through Scott. As I've gotten older, I suspect I sound even more like my mother. I know she sounds more and more like my grandmother. Maybe it's a settling in when it comes to life. I just know that as I get older, my pitch and tone has changed a bit and I can hear myself sounding more and more like mom.

So I am turning into my mother. 

My hair has started to look more like hers. It's still darker and I have more layers but the texture is similar. She always had a ton of hair. It was thick and dark. It's thinner now and when she colors it, she colors it a lighter brown. It doesn’t have the volume it once had; neither does mine.

And then there's the matter of my knee. My sister jokes every once in a while about having mom knees. I have them, too. I look at my legs and they've become my mother's. Because I'm not as muscular as I used to be and because my mother was never particularly athletic, we now share the same legs though mine are still longer because I'm taller.

My right knee bothers me now. My mother has had bad knees as long as I've been alive. If I remember correctly, she did something to her right knee when she used to dance when she was younger. I suspect it was ACL related though I'm not sure that was ever diagnosed. She's had surgeries though refuses to have a knee replacement. My right knee is bad because of years of running. I screwed it up the day we moved in March and it has not yet recovered. I used to recover much more quickly. I suspect mom did, too.

If the knee ever gets to the point where it needs replaced, I will do it. My mother has refused to do hers, but I refuse to live in pain. In that way, I guess I haven't turned into my mother completely.

However, there is the thing with the eyeglasses. I remember my mother saying, years ago, when she still only used readers, that she was forever looking for them. She would have them in her hand and stop in the kitchen or the bathroom or somewhere else, put them down and eventually walk away. A search would ensue, a backtracking of steps, until she located them.

I still wear readers and only for work and reading. I buy them online at because they have a phenomenal selection. My current ones are Ray Bans with aviator frames at a .75 magnification. I love them. And I am forever leaving them somewhere in the house. This morning, I went to get a cup of coffee and stopped to talk to Kevin about something. I took Riley out. I went into the bedroom because I needed some lip balm. When I returned to my office, the glasses were nowhere to be found. I retraced my steps and found them on the island in the kitchen.

I picked them up, shook my head and started to laugh. “I’m becoming my mother,” I said to no one. If I get to the point where the glasses are on my head and I still can’t find them, I’ll have turned into my mother with a little bit of my grandmother thrown in for character. Either way, it’s good company to keep, good people to be. And I celebrate that every day. 


live out loud

Comments (2) -

9/2/2015 4:59:37 AM #

When you are walking around 'hunting' your glasses and in frustration, you reach up and you find them on your know you're in trouble!  Frown

mom United States

9/4/2015 8:17:40 PM #

Yup....there are times I feel my grandmother inside my face, while I am sharing a story....
and I just LOVE it...

Pam United States

Add comment

  Country flag

  • Comment
  • Preview

Filter by APML