REFLECTIONS IN TIME

SILHOUETTES

photo by Andrew
photo by Andrew

REFLECTIONS IN THE MIRROR by b. Malin

REFLECTIONS IN THE MIRROR ARE NOT ALWAYS WHAT THEY APPEAR, EVEN WHEN YOU SEE SMILES, JOYS, OR TEARS. THE MIRROR DOES NOT TELL ALL.

SISTERS IN THE REFLECTION ARE AS DIFFERENT AS THEY APPEAR, EVEN THOUGH THE WORLD SAYS, "HOW VERY ALIKE YOU ARE". .

FROM OUTER REFLECTIONS THAT MAY BE TRUE...BUT DEEP IN THE HEART, THE MIND, THE BODY, AND THE SOUL,THEY ARE INDIVIDUALS WITH VERY DIFFERENT THOUGHTS AND BELIEFS.

THEY WILL SHARE THOUGHTS, LOVES, CONFLICTS AND TRUTH. THEY WILL AGREE TO DISAGREE, AND MAYBE NOT SPEAK FOR AWHILE. UNTIL ONE CALLS AND SAYS, "WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT ANYWAY?" AND ONCE MORE THE LAUGHTER WILL BEGIN.

THEY WILL DEFEND EACH OTHER TO SOMEONE ELSE TO THE END, THEY WILL BE FRIENDS, AND WHEN HEAVEN OPENS UP THE DOOR TO ONE OF THEM....THE OTHER WILL GRIEVE THE LOSS OF HER SISTER AND DEAR FRIEND. AND THE REFLECTION OF THE TEARS IN THE MIRROR, WILL BE REAL.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MY FATHER            by b. Malin

He stood at the window staring out. I knew without even looking up, that he was there. It used to irritate me so, his "window vigil." Why did he do it...what was he staring out at?

I was sixteen when I first started to notice it, and at first, it struck me funny. It almost became my "game," when I came home from school. I would get off the bus, and look up at our apartment on the fifth floor, and there he'd be, peering out from the big picture window in the living room.  We lived alone, my father and I.

By the time I caught the elevator and entered the apartment, he would be seated in his big red leather chair, pretending to be engrossed in a book or a newspaper. He'd look up for a moment, ask what I'd had for lunch, or how was school, and then go back to his reading. Talk was tight with him. 

When I was eighteen, "my impatient years", I would catch him at the window more and more. It was like his whole world was becoming that picture window. He knew that I would be moving on, out into the world.

When I married and moved to the city.... my Father was left alone....which was the way I thought he had wanted to be. Alone with his window....no more interruptions from me.

He came to see me one windy day late in March, during my first year of marriage. He asked for a glass of brandy and I drank some tea, and we talked, we really talked! He told me he was lonely in the apartment by himself, and what would I think if he got married?

What would "I" think? He actually wanted MY opinion.

All those years of silence, from waking till sleeping....and now my words and opinions were important to him! Was it because I soon was to become a parent, my belly bulging with my first child.

I took a sip a tea, and then give him my blessings, as I gently rubbed my belly and my child within. I think that I saw a tear in his eye as he cleared his throat and asked me how I felt? I knew when I answered him, that he was listening... My Father was really listening to me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe what we don't hear sometimes, is really the important part. by b. Malin

Comments 21 comments

debugs profile image

debugs 6 years ago from Odessey777, Umbris

Yes.. makes a lot of sense.. beautiful.


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

Thank you so much debugs. I always write from the heart. Glad you enjoy my writing.


Karanda profile image

Karanda 6 years ago from Australia

Loved the story of your father and so glad you found out he was listening.


Putz Ballard profile image

Putz Ballard 6 years ago

Beautiful thoughts and a wonderful hub


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

Karanda, Thanks so much for your comments. My father was a hard man to know. He did not understand women....he'd had four marriages by the time he'd left this earth. But he and I did become close....he'd let me in, and I treasured that time with him.


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

Thank you Putz Ballard. My thoughts came from so deep within....buried memories that needed to surface.


leni sands profile image

leni sands 6 years ago from UK

I love the second half of this hub. The first half seemed to be shouting at me and I found it difficult to read but it was still very good.

I never really had the opportunity of 'my father listening to me' - he was never around. You are so lucky to have had a father who cared about you and what you think and how you feel. Treasure that forever.


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

leni sands, thanks for your comments...but it took my father FOUR wives to come around to listening...he did not understand women. Once I saw that as a grown woman, I knew how to talk to him as well.


Judy 6 years ago

both of these were wonderful


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

Judy, I always look forward to your comments. Thank you.


Erin LeFey profile image

Erin LeFey 6 years ago from Maryland

I love the clarity in your writing and your message...I also love the hope and faith you impart with your words. Thank you for sharing.


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

Thank you Erin LeFey for stopping by and for leaving your thoughtful comments...Hope and faith is so important, may we never lose it.


CMerritt profile image

CMerritt 6 years ago from Pendleton, Indiana

Don't ever under-estimate the love of a father.

A very nicley written Hub, b.


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 6 years ago Author

I know CMerritt...His was very strong...He was complex...but I knew he loved me. Thank you for your comments


Denise Handlon profile image

Denise Handlon 5 years ago from North Carolina

B-what a beautiful sharing of the story of your father. I was touched. I rated it up. Thanks for sharing. :)


daydreamer13 profile image

daydreamer13 5 years ago

Very beautiful! Well done!


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 5 years ago Author

Hi Denise, Thank you so much for stopping by and leaving such lovely comments...I miss my father, to this day...

Daydreamer, thank you. I guess it would be considered a Labor of Love to him. Thanks for the compliment.


PegCole17 profile image

PegCole17 5 years ago from Dallas, Texas

We kids laughed at the way our Dad would place his finger on a word in the page of a book he was reading when we would interrupt him. He'd look over his horn rimmed glasses with a stern glance and we knew we'd have to speak quickly. Now I find myself doing the same thing. It's funny how time changes us.

You've done a nice job here capturing your Dad's habits at the window- a beautifully written rembrance.


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 5 years ago Author

Thanks Peg, my Father was truly one of a kind...Thank you for enjoying and commenting on this Hub.


daydreamer13 profile image

daydreamer13 5 years ago

I was thinking of this and had to read it again. Excellence here!


b. Malin profile image

b. Malin 5 years ago Author

Why thank you Daydreamer, I feel honored. I'll be by to visit you too.

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.


    Click to Rate This Article
    working