Fifteen Minuter Friday: His Eyes

Fifteen Minuter Friday: His Eyes

This week’s prompt… Blue. You have 15 minutes–go!

His eyes capture my attention but it is his particular shade of blue that shocks me even now. The whites are yellowed with age, but the blue gets bluer. My father’s sapphire eyes tell stories without words.

My brother and I were raised by our single father. My eyes are green, my brothers are brown. We are a rainbow from which to view the world. I often wonder if we, in fact, view our colours differently. Are my father’s skies bluer, are my trees greener, does my brother see darker chocolate?

It is an analogy for life. We have shared experiences and remember them differently based on our background with the world. My husband and I were both present at the birth of our own blue-eyed son, but we tell the story differently. To be sure, my version of the day is the correct one, but I let Mister have his flawed tale because it is beautiful through his hazel eyes–even though he is wrong.

In writing my memoir, I have struggled with this. My memory of experiences may not match up with those of the characters appearing in the story. How then can a memoir be reported as true? Fact-checkers might find the discrepancy and strike a scene from the record, but what makes the other version of the event more accurate than mine? The option is to put out a memoir in the auto fiction category but the lines are too blurred between fact and fiction, like James Frey and A Million Little Pieces to make any of it believable. What would be the point basing a book on a life story and then making up so many details as to water the facts down to fable?

Because facts are as colourful as our own lenses. Be they brown, blue, hazel or green.

Fifteen Minute Fridays are stories based on writing prompts that I penned in the 15 minutes afforded to me at my weekly writer’s group. They are unedited (except spelling) and are based on one word/phrase. The fifteen minutes include thinking about your idea, writing it down, and a quick edit if you have time. When we are done our 15-minute writing exercise, we share our stories with everyone in the room. If you played along, please share. If you read my words, please be kind.

Photo by Seb [ P34K ] Hamel on Unsplash


Comments

  1. My dad’s eyes were brown, but my mother’s were blue, and she passed them on to their 3 children. So much for learning that brown was the dominant gene back in biology so many decades ago!

    Would like to hear Mister’s version of the day’s events!

  2. This is a wonderful meditation on memory and eyes. There are a few people in my writing group working on memoirs and I’ve tried to encourage them to be more detailed in writing about some experiences. They protest that they don’t remember the exact details. I remind them that what matters is that they get the sense of it even if the details aren’t entirely right.
    At least that’s what I think I said.
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  3. I’ve wrote about things in my past that I was 100% sure I had the details correct, only to have someone else there tell me while I got the gist of it right, I was off on a few details. I guess reality is based on the blue or brown eyes (and all the other colors) of the beholder.
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