Monday 3 March 2014


I have mentioned this before, but I doubt that anyone but me would remember. I had a large mirror over my desk when I was growing up. The only reason I can think why it was there is that it is either Kenny’s room or the garbage. In retrospect, I think I would have preferred it if they had chosen the garbage option. I’m sure I would have found other ways to avoid studying, but staring at my reflection for hours on end was quite distracting.

I don’t know what I was looking for; I didn’t have that many blemishes to worry about. I probably was looking and wondering why girls weren’t attracted to this guy in the mirror and seemed to be drawn to what I considered hideously ugly boys. I must have combed my hair all sorts of different styles, but they all ended up looking the same since my hair was about an inch and a half long all over my head. It wasn’t even a very interesting face at all, it hadn’t lived.

I look at my face now and I know that for good or bad, I have lived. Oh sure a third of it is covered with grey hair, but the two thirds you can see, certainly tell a story if you know what to look at.

I have deeply etched laugh lines around my eyes which in part were caused when Louise and I were playing Trivial Pursuit and she missed an answer. When I told her the answer, she said that’s what I was going to say. I thought I would have a heart attack! I couldn’t breathe and whenever I looked at her I just started to laugh that much harder. The kids have always made me laugh and part of this face is their fault. We have laughed and continue to laugh.

There are some vertical worry lines just above my nose that were scratched there when those I love were going through some hard times that I could do nothing about. Thankfully, they never did get as deep as they could have become.

I have now and have always had the Harrison nose. My dad had it, my brother has it, I have it and my daughter has it. Sorry sweetie! The Harrison nose is kind of like a cleft chin except of course it is on the nose. Kind of looks like a mini bum. It is large enough so that I should never have a problem getting enough oxygen. There is also a mark on each side caused by decades of wearing glasses. I can remember dad had the same marks and I always thought they must hurt a lot. Note to younger me…they don’t hurt at all.

Over the years, my eyes have sunk inwards and become surrounded by wrinkles. The skin has darkened underneath like I have a world of worry. Maybe it is just that I don’t wash them enough. I like to think that my eyes are expressive and draw people in the closer they look. I for some reason have trouble seeing them no matter how close I get. That is weird to me.

In the last year or so I have developed lines on my forehead that radiate out from the centre. I have no idea why they are there. I can only rarely see them and have yet to find an emotion that will create them. It may be interesting to see why they are there.

I have a few small scars that I have forgotten all about and there are age spots creeping in from the hairline. The skin isn’t very smooth anymore and I have Hurricane and Tornado to compare it to. I guess the proper term to use for me now is “weathered”. Hmmmmm….I can live with that.

No comments:

Post a Comment