Recently, Andrea and I picked up on particular behaviors we'd started. Waiting for our eyes to come into focus on documents, holding menus at different arm lengths at restaurants until we found the sweet spot, and squinting at our phones were a few. The kicker for me was during a visit to an archery range this past spring. After sending a few shafts down range, I noticed that I couldn't see my arrows. I knew they hit the target; I just couldn't see them. When I first started shooting 30 years ago, I wondered why all the old guys were using binoculars at the firing line to check their shots. At the time, I was thinking, "Jeez, they're right there." Now I understand. Bloody hell. We both went to the optometrist earlier this summer and got outfitted with glasses.
When the specs arrived we donned them and went off to work. It was kind of a hot look for Andrea, and all the women in her office were very complimentary of her new frames. Meanwhile, at my office, the guys were snickering and laying on all the old man jokes. Punks. Whatever.
Andrea was asked if it was cumbersome to be wearing glasses for the first time. She eloquently stated, "No. In the nearly five decades I've walked this earth, I've seen much. I view these glasses as a badge of honor and a testament to all that I have witnessed, both good and bad."
It turns out twenty some odd miles away at my office, I was having the exact same conversation with my coworkers. I was not nearly as elegant in my summation: "Y'all, I done seen some sh*t..."
There's still a lot more world out there to see. Hopefully, I ain't seen nothing yet.
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