Pondering Boots

Amy stared at her reflection. Wondering how things have gotten so off course. Once a young babe bouncing on Mommas' lap. Smiling and cooing at her reflection. So innocent and one track minded. Food and playing, always demanding to be entertained.

That favorite baby doll, Lucy, almost always cuddled in my arms. Lucy needed to be loved on and rocked to sleep. Or was it me that needed to be rocked to sleep? Big sister did her best to keep me occupied as I followed her around like a lost pup.

The time flies when we don't want it to. Those awkward years didn't stick around for long enough. My reflection changed again. my hair grew longer, Feet got bigger and those baby dolls replaced with the newest Barbie doll. Ken was never invited to this party.

I went to visit Daddy. As I walked through the room to the dinning room table, I passed a picture of a mountain scene. The glass clean enough to spot my reflection as I walked passed it. As though the mountains were beckoning me to jump inside to climb those peaks. I stopped in my tracks and dreamt, just for a moment. "Wow, they're so beautiful. ...Someday I'll hike through mountains, somewhere. I wonder what the air smells like up there?"

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"What's the big deal? I just want to ride my bike. Boys are stupid, they can wait til I'm good and ready." I told my Mom.

"I know honey, but don't you want to find your Prince Charming?" Momma still gets that silly, dreamy look in her eye thinking about Mr. Wonderful, just waiting out there...somewhere, to be found. My Mom dresses in her nicest close and always fixes her hair and makeup. Searching for Mr. Right every time we go to the grocery store.

"You look so pretty Mom. If someone can't see that, then they are completely BLIND!" She smiled. I love to see my Mom smile.

I've walked into the room as she looked at herself in the mirror and she's had tears in her eyes. I come stand beside her and give her a hug. Offering the most reassuring smile I can muster up as a young tween. Trying to be helpful but having no real idea about adult struggles. We both stood there looking in the mirror staring at our images. She whispered, "where have all the years gone?"

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"I love this group!" as I sang, "Wake me up, before you go go..." dancing around the room. My sister singing along with me. We loved to make faces in the mirror at each other. She being just a few years older than me, made the silliest ones.

"Mom, I'm gonna go hang out with friends at the Fair."

"Ok, well be home at a decent time and behave yourself." Mom requested. My sister checking her reflection one last time before running out the door when her friends who could drive, honked their horn in front of our small apartment. I don't think she could have ran down those stairs any faster without rolling down them.

I watched out the window and dreamt of having friends who could drive and would come pick me up. "Oh well" and went back to the songs still playing on my headphones.

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"These mosquitos are stinkin HUGE out here!" "I know babe, isn't it crazy how big they get in Minnesota?!" He said while swatting at some flying around his head. "Holy crap!" without skipping a beat "Oh hey, by the way, I got our wedding pictures back from Terry. She said they turned out pretty good." As he moved the picture frame to show me the image of our special day, I caught a glimpse of our faces. His with a half smile, and mine smiling but looking older and swollen from gaining weight. My smile quickly turned downward. "Yeah, that's a great picture of us." Me trying my best to be optimistic. "Let's hang it up right above our couch." Years never seem to affect men the same way as they do women. I think we just process time differently.

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Grandma always told me that no matter how many years pass, try to stay positive. And be happy with the ever changing person you see in the mirror." She said, "who will you see staring back at you?" I SO loved my Grandma. And I still, to this very day, wonder how she saw herself. I looked at her and saw the kindest Grandma ever known. Did she see such a special person looking back at her? How did she perceive herself? How do we all perceive ourselves when its our own turn to gaze at our reflections? Do we see what our parents and siblings see us as? Do we see as our children see us?

A reflection is a perception worth pondering.

I look in the mirror of my families faces and see the people they once were, and the beautiful human beings they are at this slower stage of their lives. All the childhood dreams made in our innocence that never came to pass. And the bounty of blessings that have been poured down on us like a warm rain. Time has kissed our skin with age spots and wrinkles.

"The eyes are the mirrors of our souls" so they say. And when I look at myself in the mirror, what do I see? A soul, weary and battered. But still ready to conquer the world. Now, I climb those mountains I once dreamt of conquering. Never willing to give in to Father Time.

As I brushed my hair, full of grey streaks now, I wrestled it up into a ponytail, I stopped for a split second. Long enough to smile at my reflection, "even with those scars and wrinkles, you aint too bad looking after all this time." I winked at my reflection, turned out the light and exited the room.

I sat down on my favorite bench in front of my house. Lacing up my hiking boots for a day hike in those mountains just beyond town. "These old boots still fit." I stood up saying, "Just keep putting one foot in front of the other."