Man in the Mirror (Shaving)

Recently my wife has been pointing out that I’ve missed a few spots while shaving and she’s suggested I wear my glasses while I shave. This morning I did…and that’s when I saw my dad staring back at me in the mirror.

My dad retired from a life of faitful service in the Navy; for him to not shave was the equivilent of sin. As he grew older, and after mom passed away, I’d notice that he sometimes missed a few spots…I wasn’t overly concerned. It was just part of aging. I’ll never know, but I think he missed mom, perhaps he felt as if he’d lived long enough; he was tired. I now wonder if he was wearing his glasses when he shaved.

Seeing him in the mirror this morning made me have a new perspective on “missed spots”. Often we see what’s wrong, what’s out of place. We see the result while missing the cause.

As I pray, I hope God will grant me the ability to have eyes that truly see and ears that truly hear!

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3 responses to “Man in the Mirror (Shaving)

  1. Phillip Corcoran

    Do you ever see me in the mirror?
    Pc

  2. I have long seen Mom every time I look in the mirror. I’m pretty much her spitting image. I never thought too much about it until after she died. Although we lived several states away from the old hometown, my husband and I deemed it a priority for me to visit Dad every month. I selfishly treasured the time with him, and we wanted him to be reminded continuously that he was still loved and valued and not all alone in the world.

    On more than one occasion, Dad and I would be watching TV or just quietly reading, and I would suddenly feel his eyes on me. I’d look up and catch his eye, and he would say something like, “I’m just so glad to see you there, baby.” I’d make a face and reply, “Oh huh! You’re just looking at Alice!” He never argued with me — just grinned. At those times, I was SO glad for the privilege of letting him “see” his sweetheart again.

    — Thanks for sharing, Lil Bro. Love you! Love you, too, Janey!

  3. Hmmmm… I don’t look a THING like my mother, or my aunts; strange šŸ˜‰

    This reminded me of so much when I read it; I’m compelled to share:

    When I was little I loved to watch my grandfather shave. It was a bedtime ritual when I stayed at my grandparents house to sit in the bathroom with him while he shaved. I was always amazed at how smooth he could make his face at night, but by the time he got home from work, he needed to shave again. Already!

    Grandpa was so funny and fun and he would tell me the most interesting things and stories during our nighttime commune. He was the first man in my life that I saw as a real, actual man and I JUST KNEW that someday I would find someone JUST like him and get married JUST as soon as I could. I didn’t know how old I had to be to get married, but I guessed that it was at least 16.

    He loved my grandmother so very much; it was clear when I was a child and moved me deeply as an adult when I could STILL see how much he adored her. THAT’S what I looked for; for many years. Boy did I do a miserable job for a long time; until I quit looking and let God pick for me. But that’s a completely different can of worms that I won’t open.

    Unexpectedly, as illness and death often are, my grandmother became ill and soon went to be with her Father. My grandmother wasn’t supposed to die first! My family was reminded that when it’s our time; ready or not, it’s our time – even if it’s in the wrong order. Her death affected everyone on our family (and more); after all, she was the glue that held us all together.

    I too noticed that shaving changed for my grandfather after that. He didn’t want to see see what was wrong, what was out of place; he felt it every day after my grandmother passed away. He was waiting; going through the motions of living another day without her. He didn’t miss a spot or several shaving; he missed his beloved. He said to me many times, “Why did she leave?! She promised me she’d never leave me & she’s gone!”

    It was a love story to the end for them. I truly believe my grandfather died of a broken heart. I write this, not because it’s sad, but because it is beautiful and deep and real. Love until The End… Will I have that? Of course! I just hope that I remember Who “Endless Love” is actually from. But I’m human, it’s possible that I could forget… especially if I really did, after all of my bungling, married a man like my grandfather.

    I pray that I remember to cherish the gifts that God gives me and that I always remember His promise to never leave. ā¤

    ~Thank you for the story U.T.; ya old man. šŸ˜‰ ā¤

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