In My Mind's Eye

 

Photo by T. Preston

(Written a year and a half after my son's transition.)

Again.

I am here.

I am right here.

I see your dark eyes.

They watch me.

Your eyes smile.

You are pensive.

I remember that pensive look.

But you are not right here.

Right in front of me.

I reach out.

But my hand does not exist in the same world

as your face,

your eyes.

There is a space.

How do I cross that space?

How do I connect my hand with your face?

I long to touch you.

I long to run my fingers across the facial hair along your jawline,

or down the bridge of your nose,

or across your dark eyebrows.

I long to tug on your earlobe.

Just the gentlest little tug.

Just like I used to do when I drove you in the car

when you were younger.

You would look at me and ask me why I did that.

I would say, "That means I love you."

That space.

I wish to cross that space between the land of time

and the world of no time.

That beautiful place.

That place of bliss.

That place where we were together even before we came here.

Home.

That home.

The one where you are right now, 

and where I will meet you again.

Some day.

One day.

When it is time.

Until then, I watch you.

In my mind's eye.

I see you.

You look at me.

I smile at you and you smile at me.

You are quiet.

I am still.

We are apart...

Yet we are connected.

By that silver thread.

My heart to yours.

It is unseverable.

We remain linked.

Locked.

Together.

Forever.

I am here.

I see you.

I see you.

In my mind's eye.