One would not think I would be so excited to see a pair of readers. This morning I was. It was as if I found a long, lost cousin or something. Actually Big Monkey found the readers, they had rolled into the back seat of the SUV. Handing them to me, he asked, “What are these?” I answer, “Yeah! Those are my readers. You have totally made my day—thank you!” Then Little Man went into a big spiel how he hadn’t seen me wear them since “Monday”…had to get his 2 cents in, I suppose.
It’s not that I’m excited about aging, especially with regards to the obvious signs of it—failing eyesight, occasional grey hairs and the creeping middle-age spread, it’s that when I finally needed readers on a more regular basis I bought some good ones. (As an aside, my eye doctor is a hoot because he seems so gleeful that I finally use them, if only occasionally. It’s as if he were waiting for this day for a long time.) I embraced my teetering eyesight by getting some readers I actually liked and wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear. I had a cheap pair I liked and somehow managed to lose those—I don’t lose things like that so I was frustrated. Then, I “lost” the good ones and I was a little agitated about that—attachment and perfectionism at its best. I just couldn’t imagine how I could lose my readers because I carry around a handbag the size of a carry-on—things go in there and don’t come out (until I switch to another unusually large handbag). I must’ve taken an erratic turn in the truck and my bag tipped over—the readers running for their life. At any rate, that’s what I’m grateful for today: found readers. I know it’s a silly thing and I’m most certainly grateful for a lot of things that are more substantial and serious, but right now my eyes thank Big Monkey and my lovely, lovely readers.