Faces and Mirrors

Looking in the mirror there was my grandmother's face, several of my paternal aunts, but not me. Perhaps I have forgotten what I look like. Perhaps I have forgotten who I am. That face looking back at me is far older than I remember with wrinkles and edges in a frowning furl imbedded deep in the forehead, cheeks and jowl. The years are not always kind. The mind is full of memories. The mirror tells no one lies and offers no deception what you see is what you get. The family resemblance is unmistakeable There's my grandmother looking back at me. She nods her head approvingly as recognition appears, she smiles widely and speaks It's okay. It's still you and you in me and me in you.