My Father's EyesMore Like This
My Father's Eyes
I watched him fall…
I always watched them, even when my mother insisted I was too young to participate. It was heart thrilling, seeing them fly about one another as if it were as easy and natural as breathing. They were stunning to watch!
He was the catcher. The first to step off the platform and fly in the slender bar stories above the netless ground. He was the strongest, the oldest, the one trusted to be there when the others released and left their very lives in his hands.
He was always there.
For her, for them, for me.
Always for me.
And so he was who I always watched when I wasn't flying.
And it was why, that night, I watched him fall.
I saw it in his eyes first. The rich chocolate eyes that were alight with love and joy as he did what he did best. He felt the wires buck, lifted his eyes to a spot above my head and I followed that gaze. I saw the moment when he saw and recognized the fate that would not be his alone.
He looked aw