Mirror, Mirror

The other day I was rummaging through the junk drawer in my kitchen. As I was pawing my way through the massed odds and ends, the overhead light reflected back a flash that sent me into a wonderful daydream. All triggered by the sight of a small black-framed mirror, the kind that you clip onto the visor in your car. I got this mirror initially when my daughter was a tiny baby so that I could keep an eye on her. But it stayed attached to my visor all the way up to the time that she was in elementary school, when she finally moved up to the front passenger seat of the car.

I used this mirror for many years so that I could look into my daughter's eyes and she into mine whenever we went anywhere in the car. I believe that real connection happens between two people when they can look into each other's eyes. I didn't just talk to the windshield and she didn't just talk to the back of my headrest. We shared so much through that mirror. Even now when I gaze into it I still see the reflections of all the stages of that young girl who always looked to me for connection, for company, for support, for security, for a sounding board, and for sharing her dreams.

After I pulled the mirror out from its internment in the bottom of the kitchen drawer, I decided that it shouldn't go back there. It should be put somewhere where it can continue to help me reflect on those old and treasured memories in my life.