The Dream of My Daughter’s Eyes

Local Color

There are many pictures I have of who my daughter might have been. Would she be tall like me? Is it possible she would be a copy of her mother, not an athletic bone in her body but a spirit that made the world within her grasp? Could she have been the best of both of us, leaving out the things that made us scared? But the one thing you can never truly picture of a child who was lost before she had a chance of being born is what she would look like as she grew.

I have this notion that she would have gotten her mother’s green eyes. This color that you see when you look out your window watching the leaves turn. This reflection of light refracted by a soft moisture as my daughter is running through a fleshly raked pile of leaves, set out just for her to bound through. The sight of that is something I long for. As she aged everything about her would have changed, her hair, her height, her personality as she figured out who she wanted to be. It would be the color I see as she waited for her first day of school, her first date, the day she graduated, and hopefully the day she had a child of her own.

IF there were any object whose color I would want etched into the memory of my world, it would be the color of my daughter’s eyes.

7 thoughts on “The Dream of My Daughter’s Eyes

  1. Truly sorry that you are in this place of wonder and heartache. There are so many unanswered questions and oftentimes too many emotions burbling up to the surface that get in the way of clarity. My thoughts are with you. I wish you peace.


  2. I feel your grief in every word and it’s tragic and beautiful. You’re a parent to an angel. I lost a baby myself and understand the pain and the dreams of the what ifs. Its beautifully touching to see someone else find healing in writing. I’m sorry for your loss.


  3. I not only lost several unborn children myself, I recently farewelled the granddaughter I helped bring into the world. We never saw the colour of her eyes.
    I feel your pain. I share your grief.
    Hugs to you.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s