A blog intensifying the flavor of life and toasting those who share in the feast, rather than settling for a dry, plain, melba toast existence.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

vision

When I was 12, I was told by an optometrist that I had the eyes of a 40-year-old. I wasn't sure what that would mean for me later on, but it was sort of a scary thing to say to an impressionable young girl.

I didn't realize that it was possible to see things clearly. As long as I held a book close enough to my face, I had no problems reading it, but when I got out of bed in the morning pretty much everything beyond the tip of my nose was at least slightly out of focus. I thought it was this way for everyone.

As a good student in school my lack of vision remained undetected since I usually sat in the front of the classroom and was able to see my textbooks. It wasn't until I started getting bad grades in math, since many of the problems were written on the blackboard, that I was given a vision test. A trip to the "eye doctor" filled me with excitement and dread. I already had red hair, pale skin and freckles. I would now have to wear glasses, too?!

I still remember walking out of the doctor's office wearing my new pair of gold, oval-shaped, wire-rimmed glasses. It was a beautiful, sunny day and as I looked up at the trees I was absolutely mesmerized as I watched each individual leaf blowing in the breeze. Never before had I seen this! I had grown accustomed to seeing trees as large, green images, more like paintings done in an impressionist style than as they actually were. Images that had never been in focus came into view. I could see the expressions on the faces of people as they were noticing a little girl who had just awakened to a brand new world.

Of course I was then teased mercilessly as "four-eyes" in addition to already being called "carrot-top" which then evolved into "cry baby" for obvious reasons. But if this was the price I had to pay for being able to see, so be it. The other price was the limitations glasses would impose on my lifestyle. I have wondered if I could have been more athletic if I did not need corrective lenses. If my glasses fogged up while skiing, I was in real trouble. I never progressed much beyond the bunny hill. And while swimming I was at a disadvantage since I never knew who that blurry shape was swimming near me or talking to me, unless I recognized the voice. In a pool I was nervous I would run into the wall. I didn't become a great swimmer either. Working out and running wearing glasses can sometimes be a problem in warm weather. Clip-on sunglasses have improved dramatically over the years and though I now have prescription sunglasses and even prescription swim goggles, I'm still not much of an athlete.

As I reached my young adult years I decided for reasons of pure vanity that I needed contact lenses. I was convinced my big, clunky glasses of the late 1970s were part of the reason I could never reach the ranks of the type of girl who would be a serious contender for homecoming queen. So when I left behind my small town and headed for life at college, I confidently showed up wearing contacts, which were great for everything except for reading--which for me meant that I was constantly taking them out and putting back on my glasses. I would wear my contacts out on dates even though they always made my eyes red and I could not wait for the point in which I could take them out and go back to my real self. I was like the opposite of Clark Kent, being far more powerful when I was wearing my glasses than when I wasn't.

I depend upon my glasses completely. I think about where I put them down, always making sure they will be protected. I ask myself when people are thrown into lakes or pools that if my turn ever comes up, will someone have the foresight to take off my glasses first? I would hope so. My glasses are the first thing I reach for in the morning and the last thing I take off before turning out the light. Life as I know it would be impossible without them.

Forty years later and I strain to see my computer screen knowing that I am well overdue to see the optometrist and perhaps get a stronger bifocal lens. I never did get good grades in math. I wonder, how old are my eyes now?





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