Now, I look at that photo and I don't see me. I see a 17-year-old version of who I used to be. I see a young, thin, pretty girl, with the whole world in front of her. She had adventures to go on, wild animals to tame, and dreams to conquer. A far cry from the frumpy, old, haggard version of me before him.
But here was my sweet, innocent, 6-year-old saying, without skipping a beat, "It's you, Mommy!"
I jokingly responded, "How do you know that's me?!?"
"Because I see your same eyes."
"The same smile"
"The same hair"
"The same teeth"
He looked at this picture of me from 20+ years ago and he saw me just as he sees me now. He didn't see the absence of wrinkles then vs. today's dull, lack luster skin. Instead he looks past my greying hair and the no-longer-straight and certainly no-longer sparkling white teeth I once sported in my youth. It didn't even phase him that the girl in that picture is easily 100 lbs lighter. That she saw hope and promise in a world she has since become skeptical of. He simply saw ME. He saw his Mom. He sees the same person NOW that I was back then. And in that moment...so did I. Now to practice holding on to that...