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Daddy’s Eyes

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Drinking my coffee from the front porch swing this morning, I opened my phone as I usually do to make sure I haven’t missed anything important going on in the world (insert a little sarcasm with truth, right there). 


It’s a quiet, foggy morning with an occasional log truck going by. The birds chirping, my cats, playing at my feet, squirrels running across the yard… just very peaceful.


As I looked down at my phone, I had somehow opened my photo albums and I was staring straight into my dad’s eyes. Those eyes. He had the most beautiful blue eyes. My eyes are blue, but not like my dad’s. 


I stared at his picture for a moment, researching the outline of his face, every little wrinkle and gray stubble. The thinning of his hair, the thickening of his eyebrows, the color and rough texture of his skin. The shape of his mouth with his lips clamped tightly without his teeth. That Humphryes nose that he blessed us all with. His eyes; one round and one almond shaped, I definitely have his eyes. 


Of course I remember perfectly what my daddy looks like but until staring at this photo, I never really saw what I see now. I cannot even explain it and maybe I’m not supposed to. If he were here right now I’m sure all the words would flow out of my mouth without me even thinking about what I was saying. But he’s not here. So, I just sat here and looked at this photo of him. 


His blue eyes a little glassy and a smirky little grin on his face. I can’t help but wonder what he was thinking, but I know for a fact he was deeply loved. 

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