I came upstairs the other day and he said ‘what do you think?”
“About my face?!” Incredulous.
“OMG I shaved!”
I’m sorry, did you have facial hair?
“I LOOK SO DIFFERENT”
But when I look at him I don’t see the man in front of me.
There are layers upon layers of memories through which he filters.
His infant disgust, his toddler frustration, his boyish delight .... all of those faces are still there.
Most people can’t see them but I can.
I wonder what he really looks like.