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Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Legacy
I have my mother’s mother’s eyes. In the 25 years that we shared, my grandmother and I never commented on that fact, though I was often startled to see my own eyes looking back at me, all bluish-greenish with a ring of amber around the pupils.
This past summer, she passed away at 93. When I traveled home for the funeral, I found a book she wrote in when my sister and I were tiny one year olds, in May 1982. It was one of those books that grandparents are supposed to fill out for their grandchildren, giving some background on their life so that when they are gone they don’t take everything with them. My grandmother’s book was characteristically short and to the point, without much elaboration. Most questions had one-sentence answers, if they had answers at all.
One of her answers, though, caught my attention. I don’t remember the question, even, but I think it was something about “what family traits do you notice in your grandchildren?”
My grandmother’s answer:
“Aaron has my eyes.”
I never knew she realized that, too, but I love her for it.
Posted by Aaron on September 19, 2006 12:08 AM

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