Sis Martine and I have been seeing our mother in ourselves of late. I never thought that either of us particularly favored Edna before, but as we age I see it at times. For me, it's those moments when I catch a fleeting glimpse of myself in the mirror. This isn't a bad thing. Since her death six years ago it's something of a comfort to see a bit of her living on. Besides, people have told me that I have a beautiful mother. And that I look like my father. I like that the tables have turned.