Her Eyes

Feb 08


                                                     I Love My Mother’s Eyes

                                           

                                    They will remain Forever etched in my Soul...

                                                                           * * *

                                            I liked that she was always there

                                            I liked that i was not afraid of her

                                           I liked to see her sitting down
                                           sometimes her face buried in a magazine.
                                           I did not mind that
                                           because she looked less sad when resting.

                                          I liked to hear her talk when we had visitors.
                                          Maybe i was thirsty for her voice
                                          or the expressions of her face
                                          or signs of her intellect
                                          anything that animated her
                                          and took away her sadness.

                                         I hated it when she did housework
                                         she hated it too
                                         she looked distressed, distant and unhappy.
                                         She often used to sing during those times
                                         which was a sign she was unhappy
                                         and i knew i should  not interrupt.

                                         I always believed she did not want to be there
                                         and did not want me there either
                                         i felt i was part of her distress.

                                        Occasionally i was surprised by a look in her eyes
                                        that resembled 'care' for me or ...was it love?

                                         I never felt she loved me
                                         there were never any happy 'together' moments
                                         during my early childhood . 
                                         None i can remember...

                                        Yet, there was never a time that she was not there for me
                                        or a time that i was not part of her life.
                                        Always there when i needed her,
                                        always supported me in any way she could,
                                        morally, materially or by just being there,
                                        right to the end of her days.

                                        It took me well over three decades
                                        before i could see it all in the right perspective.

                                         

                           She will always be the Shining Moonlight in my dark nights...

                                                                             * * *

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