My Father’s Eyes

Posted by Matt on October 27th, 2009 filed in life

Driving home last week, this song by Amy Grant came on the radio and I had to pull over.  My eyes just filled with tears as all the emotions and love toward my Dad erupted.  After I calmed down and took a few deep breaths, I got back on the road and thought about the meaning of this great song.  “I want to hear them say…she’s got her Father’s eyes…”.  The more I thought about that, the more I completely understood and agreed.

My Dad was a handsome man (I wish his looks would have passed to me :-).  His blue eyes captured yours and you could not get away.  A lot of the ladies called them “Bedroom Eyes”.  Dad never liked that said unless Mom was the one saying it…hahahaha.  But whether you were a man talking about football or work or a lady talking about the long day, my Dad’s eyes were ones that you knew he cared.

Dad was born with caring eyes

Dad was born with caring eyes

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul.  I have to agree.  My father was the most pure-hearted and nonmanipulative man I know.  He sincerely cared about what you were saying.  He always told me to look a person right in the eye and let them know that you care and your are listening.

“I am afraid to do anything with someone that can’t look you in the eye” he would always utter.  He believed that you were hiding something or guilty of something if you could not look eye to eye.  I remember that anytime I would try to tell my Dad a lie, he caught me every time.

I was a young teenager and had my best friend in the world named Brent Pruett over to play catch after school.  Well, Mom and Dad had gone out and my sister was at her friend’s house so we had the whole house to ourselves.  Well, we were sitting around snacking on some dorittos and all the sudden a big fat bluejay landed on top of the fence in the backyard.  We saw it land and talked about how we wished we were at the lake where we could shoot it.  I looked forward to every summer going to Lake Tenkiller to swim and hunt birds.  I looked at Brent and smiled, “hey, I know where Dad’s pellet gun is.”  Brent looked at me and said, “You better not, Dude.  Your Dad will bust you if you do it.”

“Well, he ain’t here is he?” I smarted off.  I went to the closet and grabbed his pellet gun.  I loaded it up and pumped it the maximum amount of 10 times.  Brent asked, “What if you hit your Dad’s truck out there?”

“Who you talking to?  I am Dead Eye Dick remember?  I am the best shot in the family.  I can hit that fat bird with no problem.  You watch.”  I cracked open the back porch glass door and set up against the door frame.  Got the bird right in my sights and pulled the trigger.  I heard a little sound that didn’t sound like a pellet hitting the chest of a bird.

Now it was at that moment, that for the first time in my life I felt life leave me.  All the blood in my body rushed to the top of my head and exploded out.  I had hit the back windshield of my Father’s 1972 green Dodge truck.  Brent’s eyes got so big and he tried to speak but could not.  He knew his friend just pulled a big boo boo.

I held my wits sort of and ran the pellet gun back into Dad’s closet.  I could not say anything except “Oh Jesus….Oh Jesus….Jesus help me…Oh God…OOOOHHHH GGGGGOOOOOOODDDDD!!!! ”  Brent took off home before my parents returned.

When their car pulled up, I ran to the front door to greet them and tell them how much I loved and missed them.  Dad sat down to watch the Cub’s game and I went to my room to listen to the radio.  After a while, my Dad knocked on the door and asked me to join him in the Kitchen.  He was staring out the back door and asked me “Son, do you see anything different out there?”

“No, not at all, Dad” I lied.  “Well…look at my truck.” Dad insisted.  “OH MY GOSH, Dad.  Someone took out your windshield!!” I exclaimed.  Dad very calmly but sternly told me to go to my room.  I knew I was caught.  When came in, he sat down and said “Son, look me in the eye and tell me you did not do that.”  I could not do it.  Dad’s eyes were pure honesty and I could not do it.  I finally mustered up and said, “I did it, Dad.  I just did not think I would miss this big fat blue jay.  I’m sorry Dad.”

Dad grounded me and rightfully so.  But it was that day that I remember the first time realizing how my Dad’s eyes were.  They were always sober.  Always ready to cry with me in tough times.  They were lit up when he looked at Mom or Charity and I.  If someone did something they should not have, my Dad’s eyes would burn right through them into their heart.  People knew Dad could be serious when he had to be.

Grandma and Grandpa Miller, Charity, Me, Mom, Dad

Grandma and Grandpa Miller, Charity, Me, Mom, Dad

So take a page out of my Dad’s playbook on life and let your eyes be the window to who you truly are. If they are not, fix it.  If they are always blood shot from you drinking, stop it and sober up.  You’ll have a better life for it.  If they are always tired looking from stress, take some time to find yourself again and change.  Be honest at all times and never have a bad motive in what you do.  It will show in your eyes.

Last thought…it is obvious that Amy Grant was singing about having the Heavenly Father’s eyes.  Let us all be on the journey to becoming true Sons and Daughter’s of God that when people look at us, they can see a glimpse of HIM in our eyes.

One Response to “My Father’s Eyes”

  1. Fiorella Says:

    Hey! I was googling for the lyrics to this beautiful song I just heard and I found this blog post.
    I got the same reaction, I could not stop crying with the deep meaning of the words, especially because I felt so identified with it and it touched my heart! The story about your dad was beautiful too, there should be more men and parents like that nowadays.. God Bless you!

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