I saw the prompt about eyes. I immediately thought, “Mine are green, John’s are brown, my kids are blue or brown, and…”, I was stuck.
Then I thought of my granddaughter’s eyes right before they start to cry. I thought of my daughter’s eyes when she told me she was pregnant. I thought of my husband’s eyes the day my dad passed away.
They didn’t need to express words to know what was happening. It reflected in their eyes. The words were unnecessary.
I knew the instant my granddaughters looked at me that they weren’t crying out of fear, but anger. They wanted to go to friends houses and Mommy had said no because of their grades.
My daughter was elated over the news of a new baby, but knew her job, which was running a mechanic’s shop at a truck stop, was going to be difficult, and she knew she may have to make the choice to quit.
My husband loved my father as much as I. When Dad passed I felt I had lost one of my best friends. He had protected me from my ex-husband. He had laughed when I was happy, and made me laugh when I was sad. He held me when I cried.
When John looked at me that day, I saw his grief for himself and me, but I also saw the friend. I saw the man who was there for me through highs and lows in my last marriage. I saw the man that still makes me laugh, even after over 20 years of marriage. I saw the man who would cry with me and hold me when the tears were drying.
I found that in his eyes was the love, hope, and everyday wonder of life that we all need, and seldom find.
Though the eyes may be unseeing, the mirror of their emotions still exist. I am a lucky woman.