The funny thing is, when I look in the mirror I see my mother staring back at me. But if I look hard enough, I can see little glimpses of my father. My eyes, my laughing smile (all my Dad), my feet and my legs, both of which have taken a beating from standing for work many years (exactly like my Dad who was a mailman for many years too).
Sometimes it feels like my Dad is just away, maybe at his home or work. But I know he's not, and although we did not spend as much time together as we both would have liked to, it makes me smile when I think of the good times we did have, and when I look in the mirror, I see his smile too.