My whole life, I’ve had very sharp vision both near and far, so I’ve never had to wear glasses or contacts. Recently I’d noticed a degradation of the acuity in my left eye, particularly when looking at intense light sources, so this morning I went to an eye doctor for the first time in two decades. She told me I need glasses—probably have needed them for years, but only now has it gotten to the point that I noticed a problem. Kat and I have to go pick out frames. I’m taking Kat along because she’s the one who has to look at me, so I may as well pick frames that she finds attractive (ahem).
This is a weird moment for me. I realize the vast majority of you are wondering why this is worthy of note, because you’ve been wearing glasses since you were teenagers or six years old or in utero or something. But to go from vision estimated at 20/10 to needing corrective lenses is something of a shock. I suppose I always knew that my vision couldn’t stay sharp my whole life, but knowing and living are of course always different. This seems like a little warning sign on the highway of life that says “Decline ahead: trucks use lower gear.” It’s a little teeny intimation that youth won’t last, that life will eventually come shuddering to a halt.
Am I reading too much into needing glasses? Yes. That’s usually how it is when I experience a change in the pattern of my life: I reflect a little more deeply on life itself, and how the seemingly permanent things never are.
On the other hand, now I’ll be able to use that whole “intellectual college professor” look to do well with the ladies. Or could if I weren’t married.