Dear Mom,
I recognize those eyes. They hold so much truth. No matter the smile we muster, no matter the chuckle we give… those eyes… they tell our stories. They tell more than our lips choose to utter. They’ve seen more of people’s true identities than we ever cared to know.
Those eyes. I recognize the pain and passion in them. It’s like we’re holding on to a mission that only the two of us understand. I am still haunted by dreams… and yours. Pushed by a purpose that you intentionally passed down to me… knowing full well your time here was to be short.
Those eyes. I see you holding me and wonder if I will parallel that same image one day… as I hold my baby girl. I wonder if I’ll look at a camera… held by a man I love… and convey the softness of these eyes. Our eyes.
I put your ring on when I need to feel you most. Pops gave it to me on the morning of my 30th birthday. Mere days before I left the states to move to Africa. He gave me something I never knew I needed. A real piece of you… a real piece of me. Symbolism of what your love meant… and what it created.
Thank you… for being. Thank you for living. Thank you for watering me as a seed. I’m growing, just as you knew I would. Just as you needed me to.
I’ve fallen in love again. With a sweet, courageous man. One who loves every part of me. Who makes each day so full that I’d have no worries or regrets if it turned out to be my last. He loves me in all the ways I always knew I needed to be loved. And I bloom for him. Every day, I bloom for him.
Took a look at your photo today and wanted you to know that I recognize those eyes. Thank you.
Love,
C.
