A Well Written Page

His eyes were still a bright blue. Curious eyes…but tired eyes. Eyes that have opened wide in wonder, looked on with great pride, searched for many an answer and wept in heartbroken sorrow. Eyes that have in younger days winked at more than one pretty young girl and in later years given looks that have discouraged more than one young child from committing any further mischief. His face was tanned and deeply lined from thousands of sunny days, smiles and the worries that only a father knows and quietly bears. Laugh lines from more good times than he can remember…crow’s feet from searching so many dark nights to catch a glimpse of a child getting home safely…a furrowed brow from years of wondering why…and how…and what really was the right thing do? And did he do it? There’s a line from a song that was written back in the 1800’s called “Maggie”. It says, “My face is a well written page Maggie, and time alone was the pen”. I can only hope that when the time comes, my page reads well.