My father’s glasses

I used to saw them day after day. Those glasses were there trough bitter and sweet. If the glasses could speak I would love to hear all the great stories they could tell. Every night they have the same faith and every morning they have the same job. It is funny how all my family has the same destiny, using glasses; I know sooner than later I am going to the same road. Curse or gift I want to use those glasses that reflected for so much time knowledge and wisdom. Everybody knows that those glasses were my father’s personal identity. I am sure that even in the brightest or darkest day we all could rely on their presents. We could count everyday with the reflection of a person whose history make us intrigue, whose jokes make us laugh, whose tales make us dream, whose advise make us wise, whose charisma make us smile, whose silence make us scare, whose support make us believe, whose expressions could say more than thousand words and whose words build me as his daughter. When I was a child I used to think that only extraordinary people was allowed to use glasses and I recall to do the same things as my father like reading book after book, eating bread at night, laughing at small things in life, cooking pasta, and having the same character, so one day I could finally fit into those glasses. Now that I think of those glasses it was weird but pleasant to know that even if glasses change over time due to fashion of comfortable my father’s glasses still the same. He wore them with such a pride and for me those glasses represent the whole image of fathers. That even trough years of work those glasses were wore by the same happy and joyful man. If only the glasses could speak I cannot imagine what they have lived. Living adventures, looking new places, meeting new people and making my father’s vision clear about the world. Gold frame and round glass made ordinary elements into an extraordinary object that set the most amazing’s memories inside my head and I can say that into many others. Now they only have the same faith every day, but no job. Those glasses remain on my father’s counter day and night. Waiting for a new owner and waiting for new adventures to live. And I know that maybe someday I could finally fit into those glasses like I used to dream about.