Reflections on Motherhood

When I look at you, I see me, twenty-seven years ago.
I see your curly hair and it's as if I'm looking in a mirror that has been transported through time to the present.
I see so much of myself in you. I see the promise, the potential.
I see the spirit and fire. I see the desire to belong.
I see you feel eclipsed because you are not the only child anymore.
I see you try so hard to be a good big sister.
I see you loving your brother, but not too excited to be sharing your mother.
I see you learn new words; I see you recognize letters and numbers.
I see your brilliance.
I see your skinned knees, your boo boos, and I kiss them, the way my mother did for me.
And as I see all this, I wonder if my mother sees the same thing, if she sees me as herself... twenty-seven years ago.