The Story Within Our Eyes!

Although it was many years ago I vividly remember sitting beside my fiancee in the emergency department, holding his hand, eyes closed thinking that about what my dad had told me when I was younger, he had told me that “nothing was impossible!”  If that were true than the love that I had for this man, the man that had become my life would somehow make all of what was happening around us disappear, that it would be just him and I, his hand would  begin to warm, he would open his beautiful eyes, tell me that that all of this was a bad dream and we would walk out of the hospital and go home. The home we were only days from moving into, The home where we had imagined our life together. We had spent so many hours talking about the amazing things that would happen there. As strange as it may seem to some I can close my eyes and picture it, as if we had been given the chance.  The flicker of the candles on the table celebrating our new home or our wedding or even the birth of our first child. I believe the hardest part of being in that room that terrible day was knowing that I had to open my eyes and when I did I had to accept that he was gone.  I had put my head on his chest, crying, begging him to wake up. It wasn’t until staring at his face seeing his half open eyes and realizing that he really was gone, the light was gone, the sparkle that he had in his eyes no longer there.  I remember him telling me on several occasions that he felt that life was like a movie and when his life was over the world would would cease to exist.  He often confided in me that he feared dying young. 24 was most definitely young.  I now wonder if that fear was somewhat for me. That if he ceased to exist than so would I.   How badly I wished at that moment and over the many days, weeks, months and possibly  years that he had been right.

People often say “Imagine if these walls could talk” but think about the stories our eyes could tell.  The good, bad and on occasion the ugly.  I don’t know what it is about eyes that stand out to me, I don’t mean coulor but If you pay attention what you can read in someones eyes.  The doctors that told me Paul had died were full of sadness for me. I remember walking into the hospital with Paul’s sergeant , paramedics, fellow officers all making eye contact and quickly looking at the floor, even that momentary glances illustrated sadness, empathy.

I had never been in love before and wonder if the sparkle that he had in his eyes was love? It wasn’t that I hadn’t noticed his eyes before but as we fell in love it was like it grew.  His eyes are what I remember the day he knelt down on the beach in the rain and asked me to marry him. His eyes full of nervousness and excitement they sparkled.    He was so happy, I was over the moon with so many emotions. Love, happiness and the wonder if it was real?  I hope he was able to see in my eyes what I was seeing in his. I could fill this with the multiple things that occurred following his passing that cannot be explained any other way than he was there. I will tell of one night, the night that his family who I suppose in their grief had done something very hurtful.  Not ready to move into the home we had purchased I had chosen to stay with my parents until I felt more ready to take that step.  I had spent the better part of an hour in the bath tub. Reaching up with my foot every few minutes to turn on the hot water. Funny how after being away from home for a couple of years how easy it was to find security there. I watched Paul and I’s cat MOE look around the room watching what I presumed was a mosquito or fly.  Eventually  I pulled the plug, stood up wrapping the towel around me, when I lifted my head back up I was staring into Paul’s eyes.  As if he were standing in front of me.  It wasn’t that I thought he was there I knew without the shadow of a doubt that there in that tiny bathroom staring into my eyes were his.  So hard to explain. Had the cat not taken that moment to toss the plug back into the tub making me look down I would still be standing there, not wanting to blink for fear of it ending.   When I  looked back up there was nothing.  It was that sparkle I had seen on the beach. That experience and many more that occurred over the following six months were what gave me the strength to continue. Knowing without an ounce of doubt that he was with me is what gave me the strength to get up each day.  The stronger I became and the grief started to ease, memories no longer caused pain but instead brought happiness. This is when I started to feel him less and less, eventually I no longer felt him beside me but instead knew that he was watching from afar.

When I fell in love again it was different.  It certainly isn’t that my husband does not have beautiful eyes he does. He has telling eyes!  Eyes that tell a story.  I can see in his eyes when he is feeling romantic, angry (even if he won’t admit it). His eyes take on a certain look while reminiscing about his childhood, his mother, father. I can tell when he is stressed about money versus when he is stressed about our daughter’s health.  I remember his eyes on a snowy January night when we became husband and wife. Most of the light in the tiny church was from the copious amount of candles that had been lit. Seeing his eyes starring at me telling more than any vow. The only other time I witnessed more happiness in his eyes was at the birth of our first child. I saw in his eyes the love I had seen that night three years before but times a million as he kissed me thru a surgical mask holding our newborn baby girl.  As this precious baby girl squinted against the bright lights of the operating room my husband said something she turned her head and stared right at him. My husband has a deep voice that I can admit was the only reason I went out on a blind date with him in the first place and has been the cause of woman calling our home several times in a row to listen to the answering machine.  You think I am kidding don’t you? A voice over actor now, I can see him reading for the male voice for a dating site or a romance novel.  Regardless his little girl knew that voice. Even minutes old her story had begun she was starring at this foggy figure that would spend the rest of his life protecting her.  His eyes they don’t just sparkle at times its as if they were coated in something that turns them luminescent.  I came to know what it was that coated his eyes at times of great happiness and as I discovered great pain.  Our youngest daughter diagnosed with cancer when still a baby,  At night when I would cry myself to sleep in fear of losing her, he would hold me and tell me that she would be OK, I know that had the lights been on and his eyes visible to me I would have seen the pain. It’s obvious tears accent our eyes and what story they are telling at the time the joy of a child’s birth or the heartache that comes with watching a baby fight a monster so big yet she was so small. For us we are fortunate that our baby now ten has her daddy’s eyes and like her little brother and big sister their eyes tell us when words or actions don’t when they are in need of a hug or reassurance that everything is OK and to hear that we love them.  I see when they are not being completely honest and they know it.  Most importantly I see love, compassion and empathy.  I imagine the movie that is life that will play out in front of them over their lives. Olivia has seen more than her share of nightmares played out before her in the light of day and due to those circumstances her sister has her own stories that most adults have never witnessed. I guess as they grow up and create their own personal movies we will see how they use all they have seen in their lives.  I pray that they can already see  in our eyes the love, respect and pride that we have for each one of them. I hope they don’t see the guilt in my eyes that we couldn’t protect them from the fear that cancer brought into our lives. I hope that when they attend my speeches or hear me speak of that time in our life that they do see the admiration that I have for each person that made getting through it possible.

I love that words are not always necessary, that our eyes can often say more then words ever could.  I love the look that says “do you know how much I love you?” or “I am worried about you?”  I can’t help but think that if more people took the time to look people in the eye, tried to see what is not always able to be said that we would all be better for it.  There are so many movies being played out in peoples lives now, in the past and in the future.  A story all within someone eyes. I guess Paul was right in one way.  Life is a movie it just doesn’t stop for everyone else when we no longer can open our eyes. Today I open my eyes and I see how wonderfully fortunate I am for everything that is before me.