Her Eyes

"I need to be reminded once in awhile," she said.

"Me, too!" I replied.

Then we stood there and watched.

I was shopping for those "new fangled" LED lights. I felt like time zipped past me and I was trying to catch up with the new technology. Saying "new fangled," to the clerk made me sound like an old cowboy in a Roy Rogers movie, "Dag Nabbit!"

Thankfully the clerk was a bit older and really didn't notice my advancing age and verbal attachment to "the good old days, by golly!"

She had just pointed me in the right direction to find the lights when a young mother and her child approached nearby.

On the end cap was a display of huge stuffed animals. Mom passed by close enough that the little girl was able to grab hold of one. She just wouldn't let go.

Now, I'm not good at guessing the age of children, all I knew was she was an infant in a stroller with a grasp like a linebacker.

Mom stopped. The clerk and I turned toward them and we all captured one of those "Kodak moments."

If you know what a "Kodak moment" is you're old enough to say "New Fangled", too.

Mom backed up for a moment and pulled the toy off the display so her child could hold it.

That's when we saw it.

I was looking for my childhood. The clerk was seeing her own grandchild she told me later and we saw it all in the eyes of an infant.

They were like bright portals into the light of tomorrow. She wasn't smiling, her mind was too busy to tell her to. She was consuming the image and clinging to the soft, fleecy touch of a world she is still discovering.

I don't know if I wanted to be the parent or the child, but I knew I longed for something missing in my life.

Until recent events and the tough, piercing moments of reality, I always considered myself child-like.

I could romp, play, scream and act silly enough that you would either appreciate the foolishness of it all or see me as a grown up who needed some serious help.

I do still hold onto this motto: "Never turn your nose up at nonsense!"

I love to be touched, I love to smell new things, I hunger for the taste of the sweetness of life and always welcome the warmth of a hug.

I went back there for a moment that day. I longed for my childish ways and found it in "her eyes."

"I wish you enough!"
J
~ Bob Perks ~

Good news - Bob Perks' first book, "I Wish You Enough," Embracing Life's Most Valuable Moments... is now available for ordering. Here's the "Link" to get your copy of Bob's book: I Wish You Enough from Amazon.com.

[ by: Bob Perks Copyright © 2010 (2believe@comcast.net) -- {used with permission} ]