How She Sees Me
She’s been asking me for the camera lately. I’ve always loved handing my phone over to see how she sees the world. Especially when it’s 300 pictures of the dog. Or 8,000 selfies at the library.
But then she took a picture of me. And I saw myself as she sees me. Just a glimpse, really. It’s enough.
I wonder if this is the me she sees when she thinks of me. I wonder if she sees me looking at her like that. I wonder if she always knows how proud I am of her.
Does she see how much I adore her when she sees me look at her?
Will she one day remember me like this, with a poetry book under my arm and a bag full of writing work over my shoulder? How will she remember me?
I certainly don’t see me the way she sees me. I think I need to hand her the camera more often.