As I sit at my computer to edit the photos from my daughter’s birthday party, I think, “All of these photos are blurry.” Then, it dawns on me, I don’t have on my reading glasses.
Yep, readers, cheaters – whatever you call the glasses that sit on the end of your nose so you can read things. I don’t know when my “close-up eye sight” started to go, but I do recall the annual eye visit with my optometrist when the discussion of age was brought up for the first time.
He looked me square in the eyes (I can only assume, since I couldn’t see him clearly) and began a barrage of questions, “How long have you had difficulty seeing things up close? Do you spend a lot of time on the computer? Do you read often at night? Do you find it difficult to write checks? Do you have a hard time texting?” I answered all of his questions, then he asked the perfunctory, “Are you 40 yet?”
At first, I was flattered he felt compelled to ask. But, then I got that feeling you get when you are purchasing alcohol and the cashier cards you. It’s an obligation; there is no way hell they actually think I am 21, or in the case of the eye doctor, thinking I am under 40, particularly when my file is open in front of him with my birth date highlighted. I couldn’t help but think, why is he beating around the bush? Why not just start with that question?
Why can’t my eye doctor be more like my OB/GYN? She knows my age, doesn’t play bulls–t games. When I was over 35 and pregnant with my first, my OB automatically directed me to the club of “Advanced Maternal Age (AMA).” I was a club member before I knew the club existed. I had no choice about my new membership. I didn’t create the club and I didn’t intentionally join it. I am glad I had a chance to participate. I did separate from it eventually (twice, as a matter of fact). And, I did get an incredible parting gift each time, in the form of a child.
Back to the reality of my eyesight…I am over 40 and I am now forced to wear the “old lady glasses” if I want to see things up close. There are other options in the form of bifocals, transition lenses, and so on, but I am not interested in those routes at this time.
I want to start a club of people who wear fun “readers.” I want people to consciously enter the club. I want people to feel free to leave the club, and re-join should they choose, and as often as they would like. I want the club to have a cool name. Righteous Readers, maybe? Glasses of the Gifted? This club and I will embrace readers by thinking of them as fashion accessories. Wanna join our club, Readers of the Runway? Unlike the AMA, this club of compromised eyesight individuals won’t have me parting with a new child, but perhaps make my husband even more good-looking.
Talk about seeing the world through rose-colored glasses!