Oh my God, I can see!

For months my husband has been poking fun at me because he says I have to hold things too far from my face to read them. I have taken exception to the notion that because I can't read six inches from my face that I have a vision issue. What makes his distance any better than mine? I've been fairly indignant on the issue.

Two nights ago I traveled to Wal-Mart with my sister to pick up some prescriptions from the pharmacy. As usual, there was a wait during which time we began to browse the area around the pharmacy. I stared at some of the shelves contemplating that there must be some need I was having for which one of the products in front of me could fulfill. Really it was simple boredom as we passed the time waiting for the pharmacy tech to sort out my insurance.

Having exhausted the ace bandage and contact lens aisle, we shifted toward the reading glasses display. I recalled playing pretend with glasses as a little girl, wishing I had to wear them because I thought they'd make me look older and smarter. Suddenly I could hear my husband's chiding in my mind. I gravitated to the display determined to prove him wrong which I would promptly do upon returning home. Grasping the nearest package with smallish print, I also turned to grab the lowest level of reading glasses. I had practiced reading the small print on that package and found it to be readable, but blurry at the distance my husband said I should be able to see it clearly. Still holding the package at the same distance, I unfolded a pair of funky, leopard and green +1.00 reading glasses and slipped them on, perching them on the end of my nose. "Oh my God! I can read!," I said to my sister. I was stunned!

After several photos of me feigning depression while trying on various glasses, I settled on a red pair with stars and rhinestones on the arms. It seemed to fit my personality - and my face. Now it was time to make our way home and take it like a woman when my husband said I told you so.

The first person to notice was my ten year-old son. He asked me what was hanging from my neck. I pulled the glasses from their little "necklace" holder and slipped them on. He smiled and hugged me, telling me I looked like Memere (my mom). I laid my head on his shoulder and faked a boo-hoo while laughing and telling him Daddy might be trading me in for a younger woman with better vision. We both chuckled and he told me he was sorry. When I asked why he was sorry he said, "Because you had to get glasses and it means you're getting older."

Now in the last ten months I have undergone some major stress! There is no doubt my hair is much more gray. I can handle daily military life, schooling Koen, raising the twins, the transoceanic move, and two major surgeries, but something about having people ask me if the twins are my grandchildren and if my 35 year-old sister is my daughter is about to break me! But did I mention that I can see now? These glasses are meant to allow me to "see" a whole lot more than just what is in writing now. It's the beginning of seeing a whole new me, even if the new me is running head-on into a mid-life crisis precipitated by other people erroneously thinking I'm old! LOL And by the way, my wonderfully gracious husband told me I looked cute in my glasses and didn't even drop a hint of an "I told you so." I think he must have seen my fragile state. :)