Her Mother’s Daughter

Twenty Years Ago on FITK

At the job-site for a new restaurant, I met up with one of the owners to discuss the sound system installation. He had brought along his teen-aged daughter. I had known him for years, from way back in my show-biz days. The other owner, his wife (who was not there), I had known longer.

As we discussed the mundane yet germane topic of routing wiring in a plenum, I caught myself looking at his daughter. She was petite, with deep brown eyes, and her appearance suggested that she was even younger than her actual age. I had a strange feeling—not exactly déjà vu—but something similar; I could sense that my mind was trying to match her visage with some stored facial memory.

And I knew exactly what it was, of course. She was her mother's daughter, after all. Her mother and I shared an Aunt and Uncle (we are no blood relation to each other.) I would see her mother at my cousin's birthday parties when we were both children, her mother was about five years younger than me so I thought of her as “one of the little kids.” And now it was as if the years that had passed had never happened, looking into a face from my childhood, a real person, not a dream or a memory.

As we continued to talk this doppleganger became involved with the conversation—she was whip-smart and perceptive. There are some people who, even as children or young adults, make an indelible impression.

I have a feeling that I will see that face often as she makes her mark upon the world.