This morning I looked in the mirror and saw a thinner face. Or I thought so. It frightened me.
A good friend died from anorexia. She was getting better and gaining weight but her heart couldn't take the added weight.
My mother died from lung cancer and lost eleven pounds in one week. My heart remembers how thin and frail she became, although her iron will didn't change.
Did I see my Mother's face or my own? I resemble her somewhat.
I won't own a scale because of her illness. I'm happy if my weight stays the same at my age.
Funny how life conditions you to fear certain things and not others.
It was my face I saw, but there were memories of the past seen, as well.
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