A Keen Resemblance

Not long ago, we had the relative of a good friend spend the night at our house. The good friend is Cathy, who made the long drive with us from Morgantown to California. The relative was her sister, who was headed to Yosemite for the weekend, and needed a place to crash for the night.

I enjoyed meeting and talking with her, but the thing that I appreciated the most about her was her laugh. It sounded just like Cathy's, and just hearing it made me immediately warm to her sister, without really knowing her at all.

I've had that experience once before, although it was many years ago. It was a situation where I met someone new, and a physical trait of that just-met person completely reminded me of the person I already knew. It happened when I first met Jason's grandfather's sister.

This was the first time I had met Aunt Margaret, and I have to admit that I didn't know what to think at first. If I can say this before everyone in Blogworld, she seemed a little firm and stand-offish. She also seemed very self-confident (which is a trait that I must say does seem to run in certain members of that side of the family). However, at one point, I looked across the dinner table at her, and saw that she had the exact same twinkling blue as Jason's grandfather, Ted. And just like that, I liked her. I immediately felt that she was clever and witty, as well as kind and very wise. Yes, it was the transitive property (If a=b, and b=c, then a=c) all over again, in an physical trait/emotional kind of way. Actually, I suppose that it's not really that. It's not that I knew at that point that Aunt Margaret carried all of those posititive attributes that Jason's grandfather does (although she may). In truth, this was more than anything a sign of my deep affection for Jason's grandfather, because just Aunt Margaret had his eyes, she also received all the admiration and love that I have for him.

Great-Grandad will be 90 this weekend. Unfortunately, these same eyes have been the one thing that has hindered him from enjoying life most in his old age. He can no longer see to read or write, two of the things that always brought him to the most pleasure.

It is a grieving factor to think that the eyes that to me are symbolic of all the love that I have for him are not bringing him joy as they once did. However, I still feel blessed by his eyes, and know that the loss of function in them won't dim what I see in them - wisdom, knowledge, joy, and love.

Happy Birthday, Granddad.

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