. . . I'm learning to see myself through the eyes of love .
Those who love me have much better eyes than mine. The eyes of those who love us are always the best. Unlike the old saying love is not blind at all. Love see with the eyes of God, not the eyes of the world. Love has remarkable clarity of vision, the scope of a eagle in flight, free from all those debris of reality.
There where things about me, before cancer that I could not love. There must have been a part of me that need the cancer so it could be cut out and through away. I don't quite understand these feelings, but somehow I feel it is true. It's like when you set the alarm to go off at six in the morning and you wake up just before the alarm goes off, even though I usually snooze steadily on till seven. The body just knows.
You may not feel this way at all. I have a cancer friend who has often said to me " I'm blameless. I didn't do anything at all to cause this". I believe her. She knows herself. I know myself, too.
I look at me with the eyes of reality, and what do I see? A middle aged woman who is once again losing her hair. Those bright Hazel green eyes are more often than not bloodshot. They peek out through swollen lids. The veins beneath my skin have taken on the look of jagged and jaded lightning flashes. My lips are sometimes swollen, puffy and pale. That's the view through the eyes of reality.
Than there are the eyes of love. My dearest friend says to me, " when I look at you I see the love of friendship, sisterhood that dew me to you all those years ago". She tells me to remember what good times we have had when we would hike to a quite pinnacle and sit or lay on our backs and watch the night sky. We would tell each other what best friends we were and would always be.
And now you say to me hurry back. . . we miss you . . . I miss the view through your eyes. "You have no idea how important you have always been to me and always will be. You have made me believe I could and can make a difference." You have loved me just the way I am. Those aren't the eyes of reality, those are the eyes of love.
They see me as I want to be and yet, for them, already am.
Now that my cancer has returned, I can see myself through their eyes. I like seeing me through the eyes of love.