My eyes.

I look at her and see my eyes.

Yes, they are the same color,
but it is so much more than that.

I see me, 23 years ago.

I see a girl, so full of life, questioning everything around it.
I see a girl, so active and so energetic.
I see a girl, with a huge smile on her face.
I see a girl, who is so ready to give love to those around who want it, need it, and deserve it.

She has my eyes, she carries strengths I have had and sometimes she carries weakness around too. I stand there staring into them, hoping she can over come the ones I could not. And somehow, I can see by looking at her eyes, that she is stronger.

I look into her eyes, and my hopes and fears roll into one. A scared parent yes, I will always be, but somehow I put that behind, because the hopes are are in the front, I somehow know they will prevail.

She has my eyes, there is no doubt to this.

When I look at her, Yes, I see me, but more than anything, I see Emma.

I see her for everything she is, some of me, some of her father, but 100% just her.

She is so many things, in so many different ways.

It equals out to me to be nothing less than perfect.

I look at her and see my eyes.