At first, I was sure it was a headache; you know, the kind anyone would get when kids shove 8 1/2 x 11-sized sheets in front of your face; in the summer heat, during the witching hour, at the same time. The words were blurry, and just too darn close to be seen; they were wavy, and blurry, like underwater. Reading them was painful.
So, the ophthalmologist was right; I need bifocals.
I was sure I would escape this. The whole point of doing yoga everyday is just to trick my spine into believing I’m younger than the 46 years I really am. The spine is the center of the nervous system; trick the spine, and everything else follows — even the eyes, I believed.
Grudgingly, I found myself a nice sexy pair of black bifocals, which my husband adores, but I can never find when I need them. I should get myself one of those old-lady chains. The kids are having a ball with the glasses; but of course, the oldest looks at me with that questioning look; is she crazy or absolutely normal? I think he goes for the former. All four of them are somehow captivated and bewildered with my sudden blindness; yet they persist to shove those papers in front of my face.
Reading forms and papers and books takes way too much time now. I can’t find the glasses, ever. I try to hold the paper far away from my face, but my arms just aren’t long enough to reach that far.
It’s an uncomfortable hazy feeling of mystery to not see what was once so plain and clear. The only way to get back control is to pull other resources that are lying dormant in my brain. Reasoning.
This is true with life. The older I get, the more I see that the obvious answer doesn’t lie on the surface; it’s hidden, yet so clearly there.
The truth is, I don’t think of myself as grown-up enough to slow down, to pay attention to the undercurrent that runs everything that’s happening. I’m not ready to sit back and find that quiet place where you wait for the truth to rise to the surface.
Whether I’m ready or not; my eyes are taking me to that slower place. Bifocas are my constant reminder to wait for that truth to appear; and it does appear, all on its own, in its own time.
Who knew? This is what’s life like with bifocals.
Nice post. The way you used reality and figure of speech made this post so real and easy to relate to.
It would be so nice to have been blessed with great eyesight. Oh well.
he looks great in those glasses (surely you do, too!)
amen sister….we never really do know, do we? but, the truth always comes…sometimes it just takes a while. : ) such cute shots!
I have close to no sight or peripheral vision in my left eye…things on that side of my nose are often blurry if seen at all. I’ve never known anything other than haze…I wonder what my life would be like if it were different than I see it now.
Super fun shots of cool glasses and a cute cute cute kid!
I love this…”Bifocas are my constant reminder to wait for that truth to appear”.
Wonderful words. The pictures are adorable.
love the idea that sometimes the truth just takes a while — that first shot of your son is hysterical!
Old lady glass chains can be quite sexy too. Love your words, love your photos. Like you, hate those little slaps the body clock gives me to remind me that I’m getting older . . .
You really know how to take a simple thing and bring it to a much deeper level! Beautiful post. And great pics!
Very cute post and I adore the photos. At least you made it to 46. Days after my 40th birthday I discovered the same thing. Best part was, the moment the ophthalmologist checked my eyes, she said, “Are you 40 now?”. LOL. Well, I’m now 42 and it hasn’t improved. I think it happens to us all at some point. I’m not old enough to have eye problems OR a baby boy who will be 18 in less than 2 months, or at least I don’t think I am. LOL. Glad to hear that you’re “seeing things more clearly” now.
Are those your new glasses? They look VERY nice. And this is a wonderful post – deep!
I would never know those are bifocals. Beautifully written post and I love the photos along with it. That first one is my favorite.
He is adorable in your new glasses! I’m sure I need something, I’m putting it off a little longer…
Those bifocals are uber cool! I love that deadpan expression in the first shot. I’m sure my turn will come for bifocals soon. Glad to know I’ll be in good company!
Great pictures! I love the way they carry through your dislike of bifocals. When my Mom got her first pair she hated them too and had to get the old lady chain too because she found herself putting them down and forgetting to pick them up too.
Find a cute, pretty, unique, one of a kind old lady chain to call your own, it may help a little. 🙂
I’m ending my 30th year, quickly heading toward 31. As I’ve gotten to this age, I realize how young 40, 50, 60 really is. I also realize that at 30, I can’t do the things I thought I would be able to do, I’m not the person I thought I would be. Will we ever get there? Does 46 mean that, despite bifocals, you’re THERE? You’re the woman you THOUGHT you’d be? I’m not as smart as I thought I would be, or as financially sound, or as kind…the list goes on forever. And yet I’m not willing to give it up yet. I’m not willing to say this is the BEST me. I’d take bifocals if it meant I was a better person…that slowing down, being more aware, waiting for the truth to surface resulted in the best me. I sure would like to meet her.
I love your guy in your glasses.
Those frames are so cute! They look great on him…I can just guess how great they look on you!
I LOVE that first picture! what a cutie! And, I’m sure you look just as cute in them!
Great shots. And Jaimee is right: the first one is magnificent. You mean you managed to take those shots without your glasses on?
I got glasses when I was about 40. Over what seemed to be about a weekend, I discovered I was squinting to read some things, especially infant medicine. I do believe I have added one more reason to my ever-growing list of reasons as I am too old to have children who are young.
I was renewing my liscence recently, and while in line I covered up my eyes to read the eye chart – just for fun – My right eye fine. My left, not so great. I will be joining you soon. I think my husband will be pleased too. He likes glasses.
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