Love Your Changing Face

I just found myself looking in the bathroom mirror as I washed my hands and thinking, my eyes look green today. Then I immediately felt sad, because my mother used to say things like that to me. (FYI, my eyes are blue/green and sometimes they look blue, sometimes green, depending on the light and what I'm wearing -- see photo at right.)

Mom died in 2020, after 15 years of living with me and my children. Elva Hasty Thompson loved her children fiercely.

Nobody else in my life, even my own children, have ever studied my face the way Mom used to, on a daily basis. I guess it's understandable, since she created that face.

If she said "Did you get enough sleep last night?" that meant either I had dark circles under my eyes or I was being grumpy. (I now regret every time I was grumpy with her.)

If she said "You need some lipstick" that meant I looked tired and/or I was going somewhere. Like any lady who was young in the 1950's, my mother absolutely believed in the power of lipstick, not only to look more attractive but to brighten one's mood. 

My maternal grandmother, Memaw Hasty, never appeared at breakfast until she was fully dressed for the day, including full makeup, which meant lipstick, of course. I never once saw her without makeup until I was 14 and she had a massive stroke. Seeing her pale face and lips scared me profoundly.

I study my kids' faces, too, especially my son's face because he lives with me. (I rarely see my daughter, who lives in South Carolina.)

When my son is tired, or doesn't feel well, or is sad, grumpy, etc. I notice it. If he doesn't look chipper and happy I always wonder what I can do or say to brighten his mood. This is part of being a mama.

Sometimes people have made unkind remarks to me because my son is adopted and they think I am not his "real" mama. I assure you, I love my adopted kids as much as if they came from my body. Biology makes no difference when it comes to mama love.

I am not trying to make any profound points here with this little blog. Only this: study your kids' faces. Below is one of my favorite poems.

When You Are Old

by W. B. Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

 

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

 

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.