It is really easy to form an ideal image of yourself in your mind if you avoid your reflection at all costs. In my mind, I still look young and vibrant, and I look good much as the kitten does as it gazes into the mirror. Like the kitten I find the reality of my appearance disturbing which is the main reason I avoid mirrors at all costs. I am no beauty queen by any stretch of the imagination. Still, my reflection won't break anyone's camera either. People don’t normally vomit when they look at me or run screaming in the other direction, so hells bells, I can’t look that bad. I often smile at strangers when out and about, and they smile back because smiles are contagious. Smiling makes everyone wonder what I have been up to, and that is exactly what I want them to think!
As much as I hate my reflection, I forced myself to gaze deeply into the mirror and really look at what I saw. What I realized as I stared myself down is that the parents I lost so long ago, were there staring back at me. I can see my mother’s features dominating the reflection-same hazel eyes, and face shape. I can see her stubbornness and courage. If I look really closely I can even see a little of my Dad. I experienced an epiphany of sorts. I realized they haven‘t completely left me. They are still here because they live in me. Their genetics are firmly woven together within me making me the person I am. They live in my appearance, personality, and in almost every facet…I can see the best parts of them in me. I see their zest for life. When I look past what I consider my damning faults, I see a person full of pi$$ and vinegar with a twinkle in her eye having a tad bit more fun than she should be. I see a woman that can handle anything life throws at her because I have little choice to do anything else. The realization is comforting. Not only do they live on vividly in my memories, but through me in my actions and laughter.
Like Simba of the Disney classic “The Lion King” I looked in my reflection and found those who I thought had abandoned me and were lost forever. I found the best part of me. I found the giggly, sparkly person out shining the fat lady with the bad hair. I found me and realized I am not half bad. I can’t help but grin and celebrate my discovery until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
