I got my first pair of glasses in the third grade when I couldn’t see the chalkboard. My parents asked the eye doctor how they should get me to wear them, and he said “If she needs them, she’ll wear them because they help her see.”
I wore them.
Without my glasses, I have a hard time seeing my hand in front of my face. Oh, I know it’s there, but I sure can’t focus on it.
And, truth be told, I should say without corrective lenses because I rarely wear my glasses, opting instead for the contacts I got in high school. The contacts were a godsend, and I’ve worn them most every day since.
Only now I’m having trouble seeing again. This time it’s the opposite problem. Suddenly the page is too close to my face to focus. So I move it away and squint. Tonight though I put on my glasses — two-year-old bifocals that I’m really starting to need more and more. My sister calls them my “smart girl glasses.” I think mostly to make me like them more.
But that first eye doctor was right. If I need them, I’ll wear them. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to concede the need quite yet.