Looking in a Mirror
It was a bit like looking in a time warp mirror. There sat my daughter, my oldest daughter. The one that has always been told she looks so much like me. When she was about 8 my favorite Tante, my Tante Bitta saw her and started to laugh. In Norwegian I could understand she said “she looks just like you did when you were that age.” As an adult, we still look a lot alike. Her youngest daughter looks just like her (and me). It’s like the two of us all over again but with dark hair. My daughter is beautiful. The stress in her face often hides it. I have often wondered how she could look like me and still be beautiful. As I sat across a table from her at a local IHOP, I heard her lament. Trouble, sorrow, and want never seem to be far from her. This time her lament was deep. Life is beating her up once again. I have admitted long ago my inability to fix things. Oh but I wish I could. I alw...