Her eyes are blue, bright blue – like the sky over the sea. They gather compliments and comments everywhere we go, and they dominate every picture we take of her. Her dad and I both have green eyes, but I don’t have to wonder where those eyes of blue came from.
I recognized them the first time I saw them. I’ve admired those very eyes my entire life. Bright blue eyes with the spirit of the waves and the vibrancy of life making them shine. I’ve often wished I had eyes of the same hue, but mine are undeniably green.
When my father passed in August, I watched him shut eyes that same color of blue and I thought I would never see their like again… until the day my daughter was born.
There they are.
I think that thought often when I look at her.
There they are.
She has the spirit to match – independent, happy, and bold. She’s inquisitive, gets into everything, and she is quick with a smile. She is beautiful and smart and perfect and everything I never knew I needed. My heart floods with joy every time she fixes me with those big, pretty eyes.
My father would have loved her. He would have loved her sweetness and her sass. He would have loved the vivacious personality she is already displaying at just six months of age.
I think these things, but not with sadness. It’s a comfort knowing that he can see her and can see how she sparks joy in everyone she meets. She is beautiful and smart and perfect… and she has his eyes.
