You had brown eyes and dark hair and some days dark circles under your eyes. In pictures of your mother Callie, you resembled her so much.
You had a tough side but I knew there was a soft side to you to. I believe this was so because of your mother. My grandmother. I never got the chance to hear what she was like, to meet her through your eyes and explanations. For someone to have made such an impact on your life you never spoke one word about her. I wanted to know her. You kept her to yourself because I believe your hurt was so huge and that’s why she was never spoken of. I would have loved it if you would have brought her to life through your memories of what she did for you and your sisters. But I won’t drone on like I could. You never did open up about a number of things. I know you were more of a tinkerer, a storey teller of sorts and a worker. Anything personal didn’t find it’s way to the surface of your lips. You were true to yourself and probably lived your life remembering in your own way and thoughts.
I will continue to sort through pictures and compare eyes and hair color with family members and speak what I know. With dark eyebrows and a high forehead I am bustersdaughter and in a distant memory Callies granddaughter.
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