Losses, gains

And clarity of vision

I bought my first ever pair of glasses last night. They’re from the drugstore. 1.25 magnification.

I didn’t see an eye professional. Six months ago when I couldn’t read the label on a package of medicine, I knew that glasses could help.

For six months I was in the closet as a glasses person.

For six months, perhaps more I would neither admit to myself nor the world that I needed glasses.

Odd eh - that I would hide that fact that my eyes are weakening?

Glasses are a tool that increase the strength of my eyes.

It’s not like I don’t use other tools. I’m not upset that I can’t tighten the hex bolts on my bicycle stem without a wrench. I’m not disappointed that I can’t pound nails into the floor with my forehead.

Yet with glasses, I’ve been hiding.

I’ve been hiding because I love the fact that many people see me as ten years younger than I am.

I delight in the fantasy that I have ‘ten extra’ years.

That fantasy was likely created using a magic wand of denial.

Denial of my eventual decline. Denial of…