If you ever find yourself falling in love with someone, make sure you love their eyes, it’s the only thing that remains young . Beauty will fade, skin will wrinkle, hair will grey, but the eyes stay the same.

My mom has the prettiest eyes. They are a misty, pale blue, like the color of the ocean after it rains. They make you feel like you’re safe, on a warm beach somewhere, in the calm after the storm. The wispy blonde lashes that frame them from all angles remind me of the Alabama sand where we spent so many vacations as children. My mom has the prettiest eyes.

My dad has the strongest eyes. They are a fierce shade of emerald, like the strong pines that surround our cabin. If you look closely, you can see the tiny laughter lines that crinkle up when he smiles, those are my favorite. His bright eyes remind me of our campfires, crackling and popping with the fierce determination to keep burning. My dad has the strongest eyes.

My eldest sister has the purest eyes. They are a bright shade of blue, like the color of the sky in mid June. They remind me of summer, but her easy laugh and sunny smile never change, unlike the seasons. Her eyes are clear. They hide no malice, no envy, no hate: they are beautiful. They remind me of chalk-stained hands and fruit-stained teeth and the simple joy of children. My eldest sister has the purest eyes.

My brother has the kindest eyes. They are a gentle shade of green, like the color of the soft spring grass. They are not as piercing as my father’s but they have the same unyielding, steady strength. His eyes remind me of adventure and the bubbling laughter that floated through the air as my tiny feet followed his through our backyard in pursuit of bugs. My brother has the kindest eyes.

My sister has the wildest eyes. They are a vibrant shade of green, like the color of a curling, sun-soaked ivy vine. They are searching and inquisitive, like a child yearning to understand the world. They remind me of a Freesia, a natural beauty with tenacious roots. They are bright and they are joyous, like a flower opening its petals to the sun after a storm, eager for the new day. My sister has the wildest eyes.

They are blues and greens. They are Cale’s, Claire’s, and Anne’s. They are Mom’s and Dad’s . They are comfort and adventure, bright and soft. They are love, they are family, they are home.