I got the idea for this post when a friend was over and looking at photographs of me when I was a toddler. She was amazed at how much my seven-year-old grandson looks like me.
|Lisa around age 5|
|Grandson Aiden at age 5|
|Lisa with her girls|
For me, it was more than just flattery. I never knew my own mother, had no one to compare myself to, although I was told time and time again how much I looked like her. So to have my girls look like me gave me some comfort in the knowledge that I carried a little of my long-dead Mom with me.
|My mom, Patricia Oberlander Gioia as a young girl|
I hoped that my daughters would feel the same way.
My youngest, Adrian is a real jokester. As a teenager whenever someone told her she looked like me she would respond with, “I was adopted and my ‘Mom’ made me get plastic surgery to look like her.” Ha ha, funny kid.
|Adrian holding her son, Aiden|
|And me with the same goofy smile and glasses|
Another method of feeling a connection, I have finally discovered, is by looking in the mirror.