I visited my parents’ house over the weekend. For assorted things. To pick up things to give to my sister later this week when I am going to SoCal. For laundry. For lunch. And just a moment of childhood nostalgia.

My mom put up more photos from her wedding, probably to remind her of when she was younger. And how life was like…similar to her empty nest now. Now being older, I stared at her photo. She would only be several years older than me now.

If I had met her in person at that age, would I judge her? Would I have dismissed her quickly? Or would I have willingly accepted her in my life? I find like everyone else that I choose my friends carefully, but in doing so, I judge people, not trying for some but trying hard for others. In a group of people I just meet, I know I tend to gravitate toward some more than others. But it’s all about noticing.

As I stood in my parents’ room peering at the wedding photo, I looked again. Well, she looked like my mom and really, truthfully, I can’t picture her at my age. Moreover, she’s simply…my mom.