My sister always had this theory that somehow my genes had jumped from me into her daughter. She called it the genetic bypass. Hard to see when people are talking about you and someone else.
Then tonight I am sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine and looking at my niece and my daughter, listening to them laugh and watching them react to pictures- and there, I too, can see the genetic bypass. They do have a very similar smile and beauty.
Some how the genes that came from my mum and dad to me followed through my sister and me into our lovely daughters.
They could be sisters. You would never know that they are over 10 years different in age either. My mum would have loved to see her granddaughters like this and its appropriate that what they are looking at and enjoying are old family videos with her in them.
Now they are laughing at Mum playing a game and showing the unrepentant naughtiness that got her the affectionate nickname ‘wicked toad’ .
Without noticing we have journeyed far enough down the river of time that photos and videos of her bring more joy than pain. Grief has eased its stranglehold and memory reasserted its right to travel through time and bring us back to those we love.