sparkle!

i have a picture of terra in my office at work. she is holding her hand up to her chin, smiling slyly and looking off to the right with a sparkle in her eye.

i don't believe in reincarnation, (i'm just not one to believe in myths and theories that can't be substantiated by proof,) none the less, i like to imagine it true occasionally anyway, (just for fun.)

my dad has remarked a couple of times that terra looks like my grandpa and i can see it. you see, she looks like her mother more than anyone else, hands down. but she does look like a tiny female version of the crass, old, curmudgeon that was my grandpa. it is mostly in her eyes. terra has a characteristic that runs in our family. there is a certain glimmer or sparkle that is evident in the eyes of most of my family members. my grandpa had it, to be sure. often times, if you looked at him, you might have gotten the impression he had something up his sleeve. it was like a little droplet of optimism that was always present there. maybe he was scheming or maybe he was secretly pollyanna's third cousin but either way, this little glint of light that played in the pools of his eyes, that danced around even when the light in the room and he remained stationary, was undeniable.

once i wrote about seeing it in a certain photograph of my mother. it caught me by surprise that she had it too. and i've seen it in my own eyes on occasion, moreso as i've grown older. my dad also has it. with him it looks like a bubble is welling up behind blue eyes but only he knows what it really is. maybe the bubble is getting ready to burst. maybe it's some secret, super spiritual remedy for all of mankind's ills.

my grandpa passed away about four years ago. wouldn't it be nice if he had a spirit and that spirit was in some sort of samsara waiting room until terra's birth? i look at terra, at this picture displayed in my office, and i see him.

i see his craggy old face with the eyes of a young man sparkling back at me. i hear his voice, calling to me in muted tones, a giant baritone supporting all other voices, all other sounds. i can feel his love, so warmly cold.

and i see terra's smooth, little face with a grandpa's eyes twinkling back to me. i hear her voice, "dab-dab-dab, dab-dab," so opposite to his in every way: flute to his bass drum, reed to his crashing cymbal. and i feel her love, his love, through her, welcoming me into the fold of humanity, inviting me to open up and express vulnerability, imbuing me with the strength of weakness.

and i know that love is love is love. the abiding love between my grandpa and i and the love between my daughter and i is all the same; one love.

and i think i am the baby in so many ways, so much to teach but so much to learn.