The eyes of my mother.
I woke this morning and after feeding Mecca, I returned to the mirror and the bedroom and took a good look.
I didn't do what I normally would do, which would be to begin picking out each and every flaw I can find and wishing it wasn't there. Instead I actually admired the curve of my cheekbones, the shape of my lips, the alignment of my features, a face framed by unruly curls. And then I rested on my eyes, staring back at me.
A direct, strong and unwavering gaze. Not at all furtive. Not aversive...but without that twinkle of expectation. I saw the eyes of my mother when I was a child gazing into her face. Eyes of resignation and a gradual acceptance of things she wished she never knew. A filtered veneer that lets in just enough to keep her sustained, but little else. I studied those eyes, my eyes...my mother's eyes, and wondered if the world could see that quiet observation of everything moving around behind them.
I used to chase rainbows and grasp at butterflies without ever looking to check and see if my feet were on solid ground. While I miss that girl, I also know that this life brings many lessons that remind you of the importance of reaching up and staying grounded. These eyes are warm, but hazed. They are soft, but indifferent. They study...and watch...and hold safe the observations of everything moving around about them.
These are my mother's eyes and everything she held behind them. I understand. And now they are mine. I hope they lead me to a cool, dry place.
Comments
You can see my mother, in my blog. At a glance, we look nothing alike. But lately, I look in the mirror and see her staring back at me. It's startling, because the superficial resemblance simply isn't there. But I do have her expressions and her mannerisms, and seeing her looking back at me from the mirror is a little uncanny.
Your mom must be awesome. Wherever she is.
It's funny...as daughters sometimes it's easy to look back on your mothers decisions or opinions and frown or make suggestions or remarks about their perspective on the world...in time, I come to see and understand so much better. Doesn't mean we see eye to eye on everything...but understanding helps a lot. We continue to learn and grow with each other...but both parties have to be willing to put themselves out there. That is so hard.
My heart goes out to you. *hugs*
but...i want you to hold on to a few other thoughts when you look into your eyes again.
keep those eyes open and your own enough to keep chasing the beauty and wonder you saw as a child. and keep them open wide enough never to remain indifferent or distant. those eyes may carry some of your mother's traits and protections, but your eyes are clearer and braver than hers and with them you will see new and better things.