Whenever I try and picture anyone else’s eyes, I can’t.
Never have been able to, despite my great imagination.
Now hands; hands and nails, I remember.
How someone holds a cigarette, touches their lips, wears their rings, or bites their nails; that’s easy.
Even 25 years later, I can still picture some people’s hands.
But their eyes?
I’m ashamed to say, not even my kids
Recreate in my mind’s eye?
I can see them without trying.
I could paint them from memory.
Somehow, this means something.
The known unknown.
White noise cannot,
drown out your obvious absence;
Or quiet my thoughts.
Ear plugs, a toothbrush,
Crazy how such little things
Make me so happy.
It’s a heavy realization:
Reflecting on 39 years
You are the most prolific liar in your life…And always have been.
Personally, I can convince myself that everything is true;
“The right choice.”
Rarely am I telling myself the truth-
Especially not in my head.
“Navigator” is an important role…
But so is “Driver”.
Both must give up control of many aspects…
But trust that both intend to arrive at the agreed destination…
Hope; that both travel in the same direction…
at similar speeds…
attitudes and road games can cause wear and tear…
upon both the vehicle and the occupants…
GPS often requires signals that can get lost…
Sometimes you just need to pull over and look at the map.