Thursday, September 8, 2016
Time....it can't be tasted, smelled, touched, or heard; but it can be seen if we know where to look. We can see the sometimes obvious, sometimes subtle trail that it leaves behind. When we still ourselves long enough, it can be felt, not by our hands, but by our souls.
Mirrors have always held a fascination for me. I have no clue why they just did. Before I was tall enough to stand and see myself in the bathroom mirror, I would shimmy up and sit on the sink. I would sit there and look at myself for what seemed like hours. I don't think it was about vanity, it was as if I was studying myself, trying to see beyond the outside of myself. I would stare into my own eyes, memorizing them, the imaginings of a child racing through my mind.
I would also watch my Mom when she would be getting dressed for work and would be looking in the mirror. In my child eyes my Mother was the most beautiful of all the Mothers on the planet! Isn't that how we think as children? As time has moved on I've watched the changes in her face and in her physical form, just as I have watched the changes in mine. I watched her once bright eyes turn slightly blood shot, the ever darkening circles under her eyes, gray hairs, wrinkles. I'll be honest with you, I found myself thinking, "I don't want that to happen to me".