All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother. — Abraham Lincoln
One morning, as you lazily enter the bathroom, you take a rare glance at yourself in the mirror. You halt abruptly. Adjust the glasses you can’t see without. Lean in closer to the mirror and inhale a deep breath. For just that single moment, you see it. Maybe it’s the intense softness of chocolate brown eyes shadowed by layers of thin fluffy skin, or the fine grooves etched like artist’s strokes across your forehead. The silver sprouts of hair rimming your face announce the lineage connection plus the years you’ve been on this earth. Even the determined jaw set to attack the day and whatever it brings heralds the fused parentage. It is her as surely as if she were standing there saying, “Here we go again!” It’s your mother!
Find more words of thought and wisdom from Give Me G.R.I.T.S. — Girls Raised Intentionally To Succeed.