When I looked in the mirror I didn’t see my reflection, but events of my past. I notice something that shocked me at first, and then made my emotions fill with both happiness and sadness. My body, which has been broken since age three from Cerebral Palsy, was perfectly healthy.
I slid head first into second, playing little league baseball, after hitting a screamer that rolled to the outfield fence. Or catch a line drive at third to prevent extra bases. And was able to keep up with the other kids in the neighborhood at whatever they played.
My high school years shone my longing for playing sports coming true. Hearing my name chanted sent a tear trickling down my cheek.
What astounded and brought my trickling tears to a full sob, though, was seeing my unreachable dream playing out before me. Because of my health landing on the moon was impossible, but watching it happen gave me some sense of accomplishment.
As the images faded and my reflection came into focus, the memories of how I felt when I achieved them flooded my mind. It was as if life reflected on me instead of me reflecting on it.