Gratitude fills me as I brush my teeth this morning and casually glance at the mirror. No, it is not the spots or the wrinkles which dot my face that lead to this joy. I do wish they were not there, or that the miracle lightening cream had removed the spots as promised. It is not even my hair, which has grown way too long since I am not allowed in my hairdresser’s during this pandemic.
No, my gratitude and joy comes from the fact that I can stand in the middle of my bathroom and observe these flaws in overwhelming detail. For more years than the majority of the people on this planet have been alive, that face was just a blur in my mirror. An incredible benefit of aging, of reaching the magical age of 70 while still healthy and fortunately with sense of humor reasonably intact, is my correction-lens-free vision!
It was my brother—dramatically more nearsighted than I could even imagine—who clued me in to this magical possibility. Alex‘s glasses were so thick that special frames had to be adapted to hold them. The military, in spite of a desperate need of soldiers for Vietnam, scoffed at the thought of him trying to aim a rifle. And then one day he showed up at my house and said, “I can see without glasses!” Joy filled both our eyes, mine still covered with hard corrective lenses.
I do confess to being the glass-half-full person most of the time. Maybe even 3/4 full. I walk the streets of San Francisco as we edge our way out of emptiness, and I’m thrilled to see the sidewalks and streets full of tables and people. It reminds me of Paris, where every time I’ve walked the streets I have prayed for my own city’s to be as full of activity. I hope at least some of it sneaks into the future. Yes, it was cold sitting outside at dinner last night, but the café next to us had a heater out, and I’m sure others will follow soon. There’s a market to invest in!
But last night, just as a few minutes ago while brushing my teeth, I observed these scenes with naked eyes. I now watch the flag outside my window—my signal for how strong the wind is outside—fluttering, with those same eyes.
They are eyes rejuvenated by cataract surgery. If you have bad vision and are approaching my age, I recommend actively perceiving whatever muddiness you can in your vision. Run to your optometrist’s office and get directed to a high-quality eye surgeon. Have those old, cataract distorted lenses—imagined or real—removed. An hour later your vision will be returned to you, and soon you will be walking with the joy of a newborn recognizing her mama for the first time.
