reflections

Sometimes, I catch my reflection in the mirror and see a tired, scowling face peering back at me, a face I hardly recognize as my own. At these times I realize how heavily the past eight years have weighed on my soul and I sit and wonder how I'll be able to carry on to the next minute, much less the next day, the next year.

But at other times I see a face that remains full of levity and vivaciousness, one that isn't completely mired in the stress and burden of raising an unwell child who suffers from epilepsy. I see the reflection of a face that still looks forward with curiosity and hope and sees life as a complex wondrous adventure. At times like these I see my mother. I see her, too, in Calvin's smiling face and think how glad I am just to be alive and to share their sublime biology.

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Mom and Calvin, 2006