I Have My Father's Eyes

Every now and then, a picture will appear somewhere that really touches me. I don't always know why it does...sometimes it triggers a deep memory that I have repressed, or it's just so clearly an expression of God's beauty that I can't ignore it.

Recently a friend, fellow photographer and my gentle mentor posted a picture on Facebook of her father. I didn't take the time to read the caption because I was so captivated by the image, but it was clear to me that it was somebody that she was related to. In his face I could see her smile, her eyes, her expressions; and if I could meet him, I imagined that I could also see her gestures. It's funny how you can know someone only casually, but see a picture that bears a resemblance to that person and suddenly you feel like you've known them for years. It was a photo that she had taken of her dad so that he could have a nice Facebook profile picture. After I left a comment, I expected tons of people to see the same resemblance and post what I had, but as fate would have it, I was the only one who had.

I thought it was odd that no one else said anything about the resemblance...and the more I looked at the picture, the stronger the emotion became that it evoked in me. I knew right then that God was speaking into my heart about my own father, and about Himself. I knew I would have to write about it before I forgot, or before it became just a fleeting emotion.

At birth, I was given up for adoption by my Filipina mother. My biological father was an American serviceman who was stationed in the Philippines during the late 50s. He is not named on my birth certificate, and I have only one picture of him that was taken with my mother before I was born. I don't know anything of his background except that he was a classical musician and a decorated Air Force pilot.

I keep that photo on the refrigerator so that I can see it every day and be reminded that I do indeed look like somebody. I have his ears and his mouth. I have my mom's forehead and her eyes. There are some days that I walk by it purposely so that I can connect with the two people that created me that I have never met.

Some days I have great sadness because I have never gotten to look straight at them in real life and see all the qualities that make me who I am. Maybe I have her smile and her gestures. Maybe I laugh like my dad and have his intellect. There are days when I wish that I could just take a random picture of them and see something of myself there; and even more, have some one else see something of myself in there. I wish I could meet them and watch them walk, talk, laugh, tell stories and eat food.

But this is not to be, at least, for now.

God has given me four beautiful children who I look at and see myself; and when I look really closely, I can see the resemblance between my children and the grandparents that they have never met. Each one bears a physical mark that is shared with one or the other of my parents. All four inherited musical talent that I never would have imagined could be passed down in such painful silence.

Then there are photos...Lorraine Varela's image of her father with all the striking similarities that I wish I could have posted here; and the two photos above that I was able to catch while happening into a private moment after a wedding between a bride and her grandfather. If you look real close, you can see a small tear on his cheek. Maybe there weren't obvious resemblances between the two in the photo, but I could see it that day in real life.

So here's to you, Lorraine, and you, Kim. May you always see and cherish the resemblance that you bear to your family.

As for me, I have my Father's eyes.