These old blue eyes strain to see that which seemed so clear just a decade ago. The right eye with its “neuro thingy” gets weaker, requiring frequent adjustments in the diaspors of prism. Cataracts deepen and thicken, more so over that cranky right eye. The left eye has a hole in the retina. Honestly, people, if I offer to drive after dark, take the wheel.
But as I maneuvered the Prius down Wornall a few days ago with Jessica in the passenger seat, I had no trouble seeing this: Striding down the Trolley Track trail, in a three-piece suit, a man with a guide dog’s harness in one hand and an attache case in the other.
A dozen times each week someone says to me that their aches and pains “are nowhere near what you have to endure every day”. Each time this happens, I respond: “It’s not a competition.” As my car glided past the impeccably dressed blind man making his way home after work on a glorious fall day, I realize that I am blessed. I have eyes to see. Lucky me that it’s not a competition — because if it were, that guy would have me beat by light years.
Note to self: Don’t forget eye appointment on October 12th. Take care of what you’ve got. You never know.