The secret revealed itself during a visit to my grandfather just months before he died. While holding hands in his hospital room, I glanced down in amazement, “Oh, grandfather, I have your hands!” From that moment on, I loved my hands.
As the years roll by, it becomes obvious the physical, emotional, and spiritual influence that the dead have on us. The seemingly unseen sway of life is a patchwork of inheritance. The gift of our blue eyes or brown hair can be explained without mystery and quite scientifically through the alignment of our alleles. These inherited physical aspects and perceived nuances give our lives the tone and color of our existence. However, what is the secret behind our smile or the tilt of our head?
When a baby is first brought home from the hospital, a debate launches at the kitchen table. Whose eyes or nose the child may have becomes a heated battle. We look for just about anything within the blank slate of the child. Oddly, it is our insatiable need to connect physically with our ancestors. For me this wasn’t an issue as my last two babies came to me as true gifts-- they are adopted. I wasn’t looking for my grandfather’s hands. I knew my children had their own. It strangely gave me a sense of relief.
Lately I have observed other things in my small children. I see my husband clearly in my son’s gestures or walk, but quite a different surprise takes my breath away. My mother passed-away in 1994, yet appears to be alive and well within my five-year old daughter--her namesake, Rita. Not a drop of DNA do we share, nor a moment of time we three, yet death seems to have escaped my mother. How is it that this little girl who shares my heart and not my blood, embodies the very spirit, laughter, and physical nuances of my mother?
Death is a mystery with no real answer except this: Death is merely a one- dimensional personal aspect of reality. Merriam Webster’s dictionary pre-dates the word death to the 12th century and defines the term as “a permanent cessation of all vital functions-- the end of life.” How can this be a true definition? We all leave a footprint behind when our heart ceases to beat. The glint in our eyes, the smirk on our faces, a reaction to another, our favorite color, the shape of our big toe, even the thoughts in our heads, how far back does it all go?
In recent years, the scientific community has been deep in the study of mitochondria DNA. The theory is we all stem from one woman who is believed to have lived about 200,000 years ago, probably in Africa. The researchers affectionately regard her as Mitochondrial Eve. I wonder if it is Eve’s grin I see on my daughter’s face.
