She Looks Like Her

The jury is in, ladies and gentlemen. The unanimous verdict is that my sweet little Rosa Jane bears an uncanny resemblance to my gorgeous wife and looks nothing like me.

When RJ was just days old, I compared a photo of her to a picture of my older daughter Sara when she was five days old. Sara and I are unmistakeably father and daughter. And I thought Sara and Rosa Jane looked like twins. My impression was that everyone around me - family and friends alike - was in complete agreement. Now as I think back, it's possible that the agreement was merely polite.

I was further encouraged when my sister-in-law's mother-in-law took one look at my new daughter and opined, "Oh my, she definitely favors you!" You meaning me. Of course, I now remember that, after this pronouncement, all you could hear in a room full of family was the Cowboys game play-by-play.

In the ensuing weeks, as Rosa Jane has come into her own (i.e., has stopped spazzing randomly and has acquired actual expressions), the unanimous reaction of every new admirer has been "Oh, wow, she looks just like Kristen." I've dealt with all of these well-meaning but obviously misguided folks by smiling politely and saying something like "She'd be lucky if she did!" But deep down I knew that as beautiful as I find my wife, our daughter definitely favors me.

And then, tonight, as I was playing the piano for KP and RJ, my two precious acronyms, I noticed a photograph there that I don't think I've ever seen. It's a portrait of the three Brown kids, Caren, Kevin and a very young Kristen. I took a deep breath, looked closer, held the photo up, pointed to the young Kristen, and asked "Who does she look like?"



The answer, of course, is Rosa Jane. My new daughter and the youngest girl in the family portrait could be the same kid. Faces shaped the same. Same eyes. Identical smiles. Having seen this portrait, I now know what Rosa Jane will look like in a few years. Gorgeous of course, but nothing like me.

So now the question of what I may have given this little girl has become a mystery again. She may turn out to have my laugh, or my eye color. She may end up loving Robert Altman's 70's masterpieces and hating Julia Roberts. God help her, she may elect citizenship in Red Sox Nation, or decide to be a Democrat in this reddest of Red States.

I'm confident that she and I will turn out to share a great deal, and I can't wait to find out what it is. But I know now that no stranger will ever see us together and recognize us instantly as father and daughter...