I have a dear friend, Cindy, whose mother is blind. She gradually lost her eyesight over the years until reaching her 80’s when she became completely blind. Recently, her family made the heart-breaking decision to arrange for her to live in a retirement/assisted living community where she could receive the 24/7 care that she needed. Years earlier, she had lost her dearest friend, her husband, to pancreatic cancer.
As a child, I spent almost as much time in Cindy’s home as I did in my own. In Dolton, Illinois, Cindy and I danced the Boogaloo and played Hang-the-Butcher in their basement. We played Hopscotch and Double-Dutch in their driveway. We played Bunco and Careers at their kitchen table. I spent many a night over there and joined plenty of dinners there.
As teenagers, Cindy and I spent hours talking about boys, experimenting with our hair, makeup and jewelry while sitting in front of the bedroom mirror. When we broke away to the kitchen to get a “soda” (my family called it “pop”), we frequently caught Cindy’s parents sitting quietly in the living room watching t.v., all the while holding hands. I knew Cindy’s family and her home as well as I knew my own.
After 50+ years, I’m still good friends with Cindy and keep in touch with her Mom. In a recent conversation with her Mom, I learned that she was adjusting well to her new surroundings. She delighted in telling me that she has constant companionship, is learning to navigate, is enjoying good food, and has made many new friends. Most important, she continues to be grateful for the love and daily visits from her family. She was beaming as she was bringing me up to date.
It occurred to me that if there was one thing I wanted Cindy’s Mom to be able to see, it would be her own smile. More so than seeing her new great-granddaughter and more so than seeing the faces of her children, I want her to see her own smile. It’s radiant and, no doubt, would cause her to smile all the more. I’m sure she has no idea what beauty she is always projecting.
It also got me thinking about beauty and what may be an additional, overlooked dimension to it. It’s that rare kind of beauty that straddles both inner and outer. It’s a beauty expressed by the soul at the same time that it is being presented in a handsome Hollywood frame. That’s what Cindy’s Mom has. It’s what she’s always had. It’s what I observed as a child when she held her husband’s hand. When you see her smile, you see not only a pretty face, you see her soul and her genuine joie de vivre.
My own mother has this form of beauty and she’s just as blind to it as Cindy’s Mom. My Mom’s laugh is one that is a cross between a child’s giggle and my favorite song. It is, in every sense of the word, music to my ears. I’m fortunate that I get to hear this sparkling laughter often because there are so many things that strike my mother as being funny. It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke at her own expense, a quip in Reader’s Digest, or a tale of her great grandchildren’s adventures, she simply loves to laugh.
And, simply stated, this form of beauty is so special because it’s a beauty that returns beauty. You are rewarded for being exposed to it.
When visitors to my website, MyLooksOnline.com, offer honest opinions to those who have asked questions about their looks, they will, without knowing it, be responding to more than just the photo and the frame.
