Laugh Lines and Crows Feet

Hello Beautiful Souls-Pieces of me are pieces of you. I am looking at the lines that have become more prominent on my face. The lines that extend past my smile, clear back to my ears like the rings on a tree defining its age. My laugh lines reveal the years I’ve beamed with pride, laughed in amusement, grinned with pure delight and smirked with embarrassment. I’ve inherited my dad’s laugh lines. It makes me think of the other things I’ve inherited from him like his need for humor, his avoidance of all things icky and his love of animals. Laughing is therapeutic and I can definitely feel when my laugh meter is low. Laughing brings joy to my soul and fills up my heart. Thanks for teaching me the importance of laughter, Dad. I have taken great strides in developing a practice of noticing when I am avoiding icky. I used to think my dad’s avoidance was a lack of how to respond to negativity but I realize that at least part of this avoidance is a way to honor his own empathic characteristics. Here, Here to less negativity! Thanks for the empath gene, Dad. I used to think my dad was ridiculous for saving the mice that snuck inside his house, which, he would then kindly escort back outside, only to have many return visits, I’m sure. He couldn’t hurt a flea and I’m the same way. L love and honor all creatures, big and small, 2-legged, 4-legged, winged and finned. Thanks for teaching me to respect nature, Dad. These are all pieces of me that are pieces of my dad. Thanks Dad. I move up towards my eyes, more specifically the lines on either side of my eyes. I’ve inherited my grandma’s crow’s feet. I’ve inherited other things from my grandma like her fingernails, her boobs and her “do no harm but take no shit” attitude. I think of my grandma every time I file my nails. I have deep ridges in my nails just like hers. She didn’t put a lot of emphasis on manicures but she used those hands to sew and provide income. She was a talented seamstress with a great sense of humor. She worked that sewing machine like it was nobody’s business. I wanted to be like her. Thanks for teaching me to be tough as nails, Neno. She told it like it was, there was no sugar-coating which I used to think was crass but I understand and respect now. I am a no-sugar-coat kind-of-gal. I will stand up for what I believe in and for those I love. I am a straight shooter and can see through your B.S. I inherited that from my grandma, Thanks for teaching me about the games people play Neno. She was a petite woman, (which I did not inherit) with a tiny frame, in fact, the only thing that was big about my grandma were her opinions and her boobs. She continues to be one of my cheerleaders and pops in with supportive messages on a regular basis. These are pieces of me that are pieces of my grandma. Thanks Neno.  My head tilts to the side or I hold it to the side, I’m not sure which.  I first became aware of this when my family watched an old home movie. My grandpa was walking towards the camera and someone commented, “Micki tilts her head just like Papa.” I have done this since I was a young girl, something I inherited from my grandpa. It makes me think of other things I’ve inherited from him like his love of music, finding peace while submerged in his work and a passion to serve others. My grandpa had a large tough German frame that housed a huge soft teddy bear heart. He shared many of his gifts and talents with the world. He sang in a barber shop quartet and I loved to listen to him sing. He loved music and had a beautiful voice (I didn’t inherit that) but I inherited the love of music. Thanks for your beautiful baritone, Papa. I used to watch him work on his paintings. Singing and painting. He was in his element quietly sharing his passion, methodically pouring it onto the canvas. He told me that I do the same as I quietly share my passion, methodically pouring it onto the paper. Thanks for sharing your passion, Papa. He also served his community as a policeman and a fireman, protecting people from outside elements of danger. I share a similar passion for service. Mine serves people by protecting and acknowledging their personal internal elements of danger. Thanks for your service, Papa. These are pieces of me that are pieces of my grandpa. Thanks Papa.

It’s interesting to me how, with time, our views change as we change. We may discover some positives that were once viewed as negatives. I resisted many of these feelings for a long time allowing them to dull and rust but with some healthy retrospect, I am able to pick out the shiny glittery parts that I’ve proudly inherited and although we are unique, each and every one of us, it is comforting to know that pieces of me are pieces of you.

Perhaps there are pieces of you that need some healthy, shiny retrospect. Dig a little. Embrace the beautiful pieces you’ve inherited. See them glimmer in a new light.

Dream It-Design It-Believe It-Receive It


Micki xo

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