|When I look in the mirror I see...|
Five minutes of writing about what I see when I look in the mirror. No editing. This is torture. I never look in the mirror below my face. Maybe that's the problem! Time to get a full-length mirror and take a full-length inventory.
I see spirals of gold, wheat, flax pulled together in their early morning knot. A naked face where wrinkles have become memory lines of laughter past. I see these watered-down blue eyes and think of the many tears they have shed over tiny baby boys and so many joys.
This is the face they see. They read it daily for clues to themselves. Is she happy with me? Angry? Disappointed? Does she still love me in her mommy-way? I am struck knowing that my face is the one they will always associate with mother-love. May I remember that each time I embrace them with my gaze.