REFLECTION IN MY REAR VIEW MIRROR

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the rear view mirror this morning as I ran some errands. The face reflected back at me was one that I recognized in part but not in entirety. Some fifty years have worn lines on a background of pale skin and freckles that have now become wrinkles and age spots. The one feature that still bears the soul of my youth is my eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul and I do agree. When I look at my eyes in the mirror I see the child I once was with all of the emotions and innocence that accompany youth. Deep inside…. that child is there: the one that scrunched up her nose in disgust when something was unappealing, the one that was afraid of the dark and called out for her mother every minute until she fell asleep. The one that loved so deeply, laughed so easily and just wanted everyone to be happy. So often I see those eyes and I feel sad for that child. I don’t know why but I long to hug her and tell her that everything is going to be ok.

A few tears fell in the car as I remembered myself as a child, both from joy and sadness. Those years are gone and can never be recaptured but the memories from those times are wonderful. I talk to my children often and tell them to never wish away their todays for a better tomorrow because you can’t go back and live today again. Perhaps all of this reflection is because of being sick and facing life as it stares me directly in the face. Parkinson’s does not wait for one to catch up, unlike other illnesses, there is no remission and no slowing it down. There is only accommodation and coping. Living each day as it comes to the fullest.
 

Those eyes so blue

Caught my vision glancing,
Who is that soul who lurks inside?
I think I recognize that face, those eyes.

They are reminiscent of one I knew
So long ago. But how? But who?
A tear streamed down my cheek, so warm
The kind you feel when love is gone.

The mirror reflects the vision true
Of one grown old, that vision is you,
The image drawn across my face
Shows the map of time and place.

A life well lived with much to do
Lines and wrinkles a path well drawn,
A time for me to wander on
To a different time and different place
When lived will etch upon my face.

Those eyes I didn’t recognize at first
Look so familiar now it hurts,
Those tender eyes of a child I knew
Belong to me, my soul, myself.

So look in your eyes, take inventory of your life. You never know what your soul is trying to tell you unless you look a little while in the mirror.