Everyone says my daughter looks just like me. She has my eyes and my nose. My complexion, too.
The similarities extend beyond the physical. She’s much like me on the inside, too. Reflective and agreeable. And we both like to laugh. But there is one thing she seems to excel at that I never quite did at her age, or most any other.
She makes friends easily.
With me, it was always different. There were a lot of people who called me a friend, but there weren’t a whole lot of people I could call one. Sounds a bit strange, I know. But I learned early on that there were people who could come into my life and not stay. Time and circumstance would take most away. A piece of me would always go with them.
I was reminded of that recently on my drive to work. To read about it, hop on over to katdish’s site.