From the age of 3 until 13, it was a regular occurrence for perfect strangers to stop and ask if I was Terry Steiner's daughter. I could just give a simple "yes" and be on my way without needing to stop and hear the explanation. I knew how they knew...I looked just like him.On the other hand, my mother and I had many trips to the grocery store where people would look at us both and then ask if I had been adopted. "No, she just looks like her father," was the gracious reply. And while I have always liked my blonde hair and blue eyes, pouty bottom lip, and German nose...no little girl wants to look just like a boy. I wanted to look like my mom.While the physical resemblance strongly favors one end of the gene pool, I am noticing as I get older that I act like the perfect balance of both parents:
- My love language is gifts, I take lots of pictures, I start stories in the middle, I love trivia, hate confrontation, am sentimental...I am my father.
-I favor thoughtful over expensive, love nature, strive for excellence, I am nurturing, I like to read, hate waste...I am my mother.
And as I start this new chapter in my life I look around my home and realize that I look more like my mother than I ever have. Perhaps not as reflected back at me in the mirror, but reflected in how I live my life and keep my home. And looking more like her is a pretty good goal.
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