My family has dull blue eyes-my father, my brother, and me-the kind that don’t light up a room and don’t stand out in a crowd. They aren’t bright blue and they aren’t vivid. 

But my mother’s eyes, my mother’s eyes can light up a room in a blink of an eye. The pure blue, like an ocean surrounding the pupil of her eyes. They catch attention, piercing people’s hearts. The rest of my family’s eyes get lost behind hers. Lacking the pigment that she holds. Her eyes, though, are the smell of blueberries on a summer morning, and the smell of calm morning rain. Her eyes are like waves, calming, yet prominent. They are intense, they are like the ocean. 

My family is dumbfounded by her bright blue eyes, they cannot mirror, they can only stare. Her eyes melt hearts and stick the family together like a glue. 

While she doesn’t need more to light up a room or stand out in a crowd; she’s made her mark; her bright blue eyes, of course.