Mother's eyes

     Last night I had a dream about one of my grandchildren. Him and his daddy came walked through my door and this child was only 3 years old when in reality, he is now 15. But in my dream, I saw him again as that little brown curly haired, chubby cheek boy of 3 years old, as a child. I remember looking at him and knowing he was 15 in my mind but seeing him as the sweet boy my eyes once beheld when he was younger. I kept thinking in my dream, "why is he so young?" But I also remember that I felt, I didn't care how I saw him, he was still ours. The precious picture of this boy will forever be imprinted in my mind, as so will all of my sweet grandchildren and children. 

     I don't have to be dreaming to picture and see my own children as those once precious babies I held in my arms so tight. I catch glimpses of them even now that they are much older and it brings joy to my heart and a smile to my face. 

     A mother's eyes are different than any other eyes that behold. The memories of Love that flood a mother's memory at her child's first step, first word, first tooth falling out, first scrape on the knee. The firsts of their whole beginning up to where they become not yours anymore, because God has sent someone to take your place to love them, but still always remaining their mother. 

     A mother's eyes smile, they cry, they warn, they discipline, they comfort. A mother's eyes see deeper than the surface and continue to love no matter the hurt or disappointment her child has done. A mother's eyes are forgiving, over and over again. Time after time. Loving, no matter what. Always in abundance with the sentiment of love. 

     I treasure the memories of all of the children I have been privileged to have witnessed in my family. My cup runneth over. May I drink from this cup of memories all the days of my life, because I am a mother, with mother's eyes.