My BF from Primary School, now living in Dublin, sent me some photos of her nephew's wedding, along with snaps of her two brothers. I haven't seen those boys since High School.

It's unsettling to look at the faces of these two men, now just over middle-age, and wonder where those young lads have gone? Just as I'm struggling with where-have-all-those-years-gone, I begin to recognise they have a good skitch* of their Dad in them. And, indeed, my BF has got a good skitch* of her Mam in her!

So, do we all just eventually turn into our parents?

Now I always think of myself as 39, (my shoe size). I know you can add a third... and some, to get to my age! But I wonder if my BF immediately thinks of my Mam, when she looks at me?

My middle-aged Mam would forthrightly give her opinion on anything, and anyone - even if they were still within ear-shot! Even when I would be trying to shush her, she would loudly retort, 'Well, I stand by everything I said!' How totally embarrassing!

My Mam was a strong-willed woman - direct, stubborn and succinct. A hard shell, but with a loving, soft centre.

I secretly hope there's a bit of her in me!

 

* skitch is Caithness for a likeness