If I’ve heard it once, I have heard it a million times. At least that’s the saying, and it’s close to the truth in my case. All my life I have heard “Your mom will never be dead as long as you’re living.”
Dad and me before prom–for a second I thought it was Mom
And it’s true. I look just like her. I even sound like her. From an early age.
One day many many moons ago as I was talking to someone, standing next to our vehicles parked along Main Street, a lady I didn’t know came up to me and asked, “Are you Amy Rutherford’s daughter?” I was shocked. When I affirmed that, yes, I was her daughter, the lady said, “I knew you had to be. You sound just like her.”
So not only did I look like her, I sounded like her as well. I’m sure I still do.
Mom isn’t the only person I resemble. There are many similarities in my dad’s family as well.
It’s interesting to me the way the gene pool asserts itself across the generations, on both sides of the fence so to speak, Mom’s side as well as Dad’s side.
So who do you look like in your family?
Some years are just better than others. This is one of those years. Good things are happening to make us smile. And this little gal is one of the best:
Her name is Nia Martin, the daughter of Wes and Amanda Martin, born the 6th (I think) of November. She has grown so much in just a month!
We love her beyond words. Her brother and sister are totally in love with her! The cousins especially love her. Sam told his daddy that he is even willing to give up all his Christmas presents this year if they can get a baby like Nia. As the boys were discussing this with their Mawmaw Dar, she pointed out that not all babies are as good as Nia is. And Jack piped in that they sure wouldn’t want to end up with one like Maci. The screamer. Ms. Bossy Britches. Lover of Little Nia.
Who knows? Maybe with a little tutoring Nia will turn out just like her big sister Maci, and the boys won’t quite be so happy with her then.
When I was a child, we had a ditch, not deep, in the front of our house that ran down the hill. If we had a big rain in the summer, we couldn’t wait to get out there in it to play. Nothing on but panties. It was the next thing to a swimming hole, however transient it may have been. No one had pools, at least not my friends, even the small, plastic ones like we have today. So rainy days were great days!
Then, when it got blistering hot and the blacktopped roads were starting to melt enough to stick to your bare feet — we never even considered wearing shoes, just hopped off onto the side of the road if we couldn’t take the pain any longer — our mom might, just might if we begged hard and long enough, let us get in the water hose and spray each other for a bit. Our mom never wasted anything, I mean anything, so that was a great sacrifice on her part to let us do that. I have a picture of all the girl cousins outside on the concrete patio; the basketball goal at one end; the house at the other. Posting it wouldn’t have been a very good idea because my cousins would string me up if they caught wind of it; some of those cousins should not have been out there playing in the water wearing only panties.
That was back before the days of internet child porn when people could look at half-naked children playing and think good thoughts, children having fun. Not that those sick-minded people weren’t out there because they were I found out after I was grown, but we were sheltered from all of it.
Just innocent children playing in the water on a hot summer day.