Seeing

My mom called me a few weeks ago.

"Bethie. Not that I'm asking you to do this....and not that I don't think you're a really fabulous writer....but K-Bull 93 is giving away free Lasik surgery for mother's day to someone who writes an essay about why their mom deserves it. And I'm not going to say anything else about it."

So. I wrote the essay. And then I learned that you didn't have to write an essay, just a measly little paragraph. And of course we didn't win. But here is the essay I wrote, anyway. I love you Mama.

What My Mother Sees

   I’ve been told that the first time my mother saw me, there was a little pink bow in my hair that let her know she had a daughter. She had missed the first glimpse due to anesthesia drugs, but her wise and loving gaze has stayed fixed on me ever since.

    My mother sees the stolen licks of frosting and cookie dough, even when I think I’ve smoothed it over and she’ll never notice.

    She sees the corners of the kitchen I didn’t sweep, the dirty socks shoved under my bed, and the spots on the counter I didn’t scrub, even when I think they’re invisible.

    She sees the time when I come home late, the scratch on the car I had hoped was inconspicuous, and the grade on my report card that showed I didn’t work very hard.

    She sees that I’ve outgrown or overused my clothes, and she sees when it is time to visit the doctor or the dentist. She sees the things that are my favorites and my passions, and she sees the way to make those things a part of my life.

    She sees the sadness in my eyes when my feelings are hurt. She sees when I’m drowning in meeting expectations and responsibilities. She sees what changes I need to make in my life to bring me happiness.

    She sees my potential, even when I cannot see it. She sees me clearly, when I feel so very blind. She sees me all grown up, but she still sees me at every age, shaping into the me she sees in front of her. She sees beauty when others see nothing.

     I have never known my mother at a time when she didn’t wear glasses. Everything she sees is dependent on them; as soon as she takes them off at night, she is nearly blind. I want my mother to continue to see the way she always has, with hope and patience and love for the subjects within her gaze. My mother deserves the Lasik gift, but she will go on seeing with her perfect gaze whether she wins it or not. 

I hope I can learn to see the way my mom can. She sees people the way Heavenly Father sees them. Happy Mother's Day!