Maybe I’m ignorant or just naïve, but the concept of aging gracefully is completely lost on me. Yeah, I got the black Over the Hill balloon when I turned forty. I started getting mammograms and paying more attention to saving for retirement. I even spotted a gray hair or two on top of my head. But I didn’t feel old.
Not until I went to the eye doctor last year.
“Let me guess, you’re forty-three,” he said with a smirk. “You need reading glasses.”
I wanted to slap him.
Now, I have nothing against glasses. They’re stylish and give the wearer an intellectual look. Many of the people I love wear glasses on a daily basis. But reading glasses? My parents wear reading glasses and they’re old. (Sorry, Mom and Dad)
All right, it’s not really the glasses. It’s the fact I need them. My eyesight’s always been good, and as a reader and writer, it’s my bread and butter. But last year, I’d noticed reading was exhausting, even headache-inducing. When the doctor showed me how much clearer things could be with reading glasses, I rejoiced – at first.
The problem is that now I know I can’t see as well, I seem to need the glasses all the time! Not just for the microscopic printing on the bottom of the mascara bottle, but on simple things like ingredients listings and nutrition labels. Sometimes I can cheat and hold tiny writing at arm’s length – but that’s even more embarrassing than the glasses! What’s next? Pearl glasses holders strung around my neck?
Every time I reach for or hunt down my reading glasses, I’m reminded I’m more than likely on the downhill side of my life. I’d like to think I’m not vain, but knowing the end of this wild ride is closer than the beginning is sobering. Can you see why I don’t really love my glasses?
I shouldn’t complain, I know, I should be happy I’ll be able to see my family and my work with the help of my glasses. I should celebrate that I don’t have to wear them all the time. Heck, they’re even kind of cute.
Fine, I’ll stop whining and go make dinner. Course, to read the recipe…
I need my glasses!