Avoiding the Mirror

My disappointed eyes avoid the reflective cabinet in the bathroom. They are not the eyes I remember, and yet, they are familiar. I want to see my young, frisky, dancing, lively, hazel eyes. These eyes are the eyes of my daddy when he was old. On a daily basis I keep my eyes averted, and my hair whacky. Why don’t you comb your hair? My husband asks. He is the persnickety one. I cannot tell him it is because I would have to look in a mirror. The mirror has become my enemy. In my mind, we hate each other. You have no idea how difficult it is to avoid a wall mirror every day. Unless you are also hiding from your age, your bad teeth and your dull eyes. Then you might have an inkling. Once in a red moon I will look up and smile at the face in the mirror. “Hi, Daddy!” I say. Recognizing him, but not me. Not this old woman. Not ever.