Sometimes I see her,
staring back at me,
blank eyes,
tired eyes.
Most days, I barely recognize her.
I caught sight of her the other day shopping.
My heart sank for her.
She looked awful,
a lost, disheveled mess.
Hair pulled back in an unwashed pony tail,
wearing clothes that didn’t seem to go together
and pants that were clearly too tight,
the victim of too much take-out and cookies.
She used to know how to cook and eat right,
but she can’t seem to remember.
Her eyes were puffy like she’d been crying
and her face was clinging to the remnants of makeup she halfheartedly applied.
She looked like she might need a hug,
but she also looked like that hug might crumble her,
disintegrate the last bit of strength she was using to hold herself together.
Her cart was filled with things she hadn’t intended to buy,
had no recollection of getting,
and the things she needed would never make it in there,
her brain is not what it used to be.
But she smiled at the employees who asked if she needed help,
smiled at the little girl who waved to her,
smiled at the cashier who rang her up.
She smiled because she keeps hoping
that if she smiles enough,
one of those smiles might seep into her skin,
penetrate her heart
and finally,
she might be able to feel again.
I really understand what you are saying . I can’t begin to know what your days are like but I keep praying for you and your girls . Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Frank . I don’t talk with anyone but the people on my team at Everbank . I miss all the things I took for granted . Keep trying and keep going . We will see him again .
Your words are your truth. You see yourself so clearly when so many cannot see who they are at all. Thinking of you and hoping those forced smiles work.
Beautiful writing. I always look forward to reading your stuff. I hope one day to read your book.
Sending you a big hug even it crumbles you. Don’t stop looking in the mirror, the real image is beauty inside and out with no matter to the form.
Maria, I think about Frank, you, and the girls almost every day. You are constantly in my prayers. Keep looking in the mirror, and writing, and you will eventually see the woman you recognize again. Hugs to all of you.