My mother’s eyes are sweeter than sweet. A light mix of brown, like honey soothing in the sun. Surrounding her eyes are two circular orbs, allowing her to see. Her eyes are strict, but gentle, a forgiving sort. Her eyes were made to teach. Her fourth graders, full of energy and delight every time they see her. Caring, caring, caring.

My brother’s eyes are a carbon copy of my mother’s eyes. Two huge light brown, honey flaked orbs. His eyes are goofy like two comedians constantly making jokes. His purpose, to make people smile. His eyes are always curious, a trait taken from my dad. They are constantly asking questions and taking in new information, storing it properly within. His eyes are also angels, never telling a lie, always a caring expression. Curious, curious, curious.

My father’s eyes are unlike the rest of my family. A frame of glass overs his bright blue and gentle green eyes amongst the cloudy white background, like the two tiny Earth’s placed carefully within. His eyes are wise, full of wonder and curiosity, a beautiful mix. His eyes get cloudy with a glimpse of grief and sorrow whenever he hugs my grandma. Forgetfulness, forgetfulness, forgetfulness.