Have you ever looked at a human being, and created a story out of them just by looking at the details of their skin?I saw this woman in front of me, her eyes had a weight to them. They were dull, and had swollen skin around them.
A shadow covered the underlying tissue, near the bottom lashes.
The wrinkles on the side of her eyes became deeper every blink she took.
Her nose had a flaring motion as she blinked, it's as though the coordination of her eyes and nose indicated she had some sort of coherence still in her old age body.
Although, her dry lips ticked after the flow of both her eyes, and nose --- uncoordinated there.
This woman did hard labor, her tired eyes, and deep breathing pushed her body through the restless nights during the day. Her improper stance, hunched over physique, made it as though she had to be working in labor that required her to be working in the same hunched over position for various hours.
She yawned, and murmured in a raspy voice as if she wasn't properly hydrated, and needed a glass of water.
A glare right after struck me, this woman was my mother.
I had disassociated myself at the moment of observation that I forgot this human being was actually my mother.
The night before, I had stopped by my aunt's to stay the night with my mom.
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| a good song for the act of reflecting. |
Although, complications arose in the household, I ending up spending the night in my car outside my aunt's house.
The tired woman, my mom, also spent the night in her car too.
During the night in my car, I reflected on the various events in my life which i could recall doing the most to make it through the day.
I surprised myself as to how many things my mom, and I had to deal with.
This woman was a companion through all the miseries in life; the daunting police visits, and ICE scares.
I love this woman, yet I don't realize it sometimes because I'm sprung up in other worries of the future.
-Karla Yeseñia López
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