A father’s role is clear, make the rules-enforce. His eyes are fierce-like him. Deep like a stony quarry. Enforcing the rules with a glance in my direction. Dad’s brown eyes can freeze me, stop me in my tracks. Like God, but scarier. But sometimes his eyes are tired; tired from the weight of the world he chose to hold. Not strong but hopeful, hopeful for change.
John follows my dad. Soft, Smooth, steady are my first brother’s brown eyes. Bright, but sometimes serious- like him.
My mother’s eyes obey the rules, not in color but how they never sway from the road our family follows. A hazel, sometimes like the sky and sometimes like the earth- like her. High ambitions but settles for what needs to get done, for the family.
My eyes are like a wolf- fierce but shy. I hide my emotions behind my strong eyes, eyes like a slippery slope of ice. Ice- not cold and hard, but glistening. My eyes hold a freckle, which is unlike others- like me.
Joey, my second brother’s eyes, are like my own, but softer-like him. Like the white caps of the ocean, along for the ride and unaware of their beauty. Young and naïve but everyday gaining knowledge, becoming aware of the world.
Filmanowicz eyes are fierce, hopeful, Steady, Bright, Obeying, glistening, strong, and unaware and naïve- like us.