Looking in the mirror does not mean seeing your own reflection. Often it means seeing the reflection of the person you want to be or have become.
My father had a dry wit. Not always easy to see if he was joking. Until one would catch the glimmer of a smile in his eyes, then realize, "Oh...he got me!"
He was smart and a teacher of survival skills. He taught me all about finance and how to be thrifty. My family calls it "Tight with money." He embedded these skills in me, for he knew that I would need them for my own survival. Not being anyone's favorite or taking a handout. My father taught me well.
We had a long distant relationship, living in another state. I cherished our phone conversations.
The days following his death (years ago), we helped my mother look for important papers. In this one particular drawer, it was not the insurance or other papers that my mother wanted. It was a drawer filled entirely with all the greeting cards and letters I had ever sent him. In this spot of his world, were keepsake treasures from his daughter. He had not thrown out a single one.
Like many fathers in his time, emotions were not something given out like candy. But this one small place, filled with something that meant more than paper...
Do you remember hearing these words, "I will never be like my parents?"