Everyone has eyes that show a story of a person. But my mother’s eyes, dark brown like a cup of coffee, loving but strict and always watching ready to act at the first sign of trouble. As fierce as a bear, as kind a puppy. Comforting and gentle like a breeze, a place to always call home. My mother’s eyes show the years of work, late nights and early mornings. Long drive to every baseball game, every football game, and every volleyball game. That look that says, “You know that wasn’t right.” but then the instant forgiveness. All in one pair of dark brown loving eyes.