Avoiding the Mirror

It’s very hard to look at myself in a mirror. I say that not because of the black circles under my eyes, but because of the terror I feel. When I look at myself, I see my mother looking right back at me. It’s beautiful and also unnerving. It’s refreshing and also terrifying. I feel sad that I’m aging but also happy and proud that I am starting to look like the woman whom I love so much. This is another facet of grief. I also hear her voice when I speak. This isn’t all of the time but when it happens it’s scary. No one warned me about this and no one suspects anything when I stop talking mid sentence.