When I was a little girl, my father wore glasses. My mother didn’t. Not because of vanity but rather for the simple reason that she did not need to.
Then, about 30 seconds after she turned 40, she needed glasses.
When she got back from the optometrist, she said he told her the 40 is like a magic year when it comes to vision. If you didn’t need glasses before, at 40 you suddenly do. And if you did have glasses before, you suddenly need bifocals.
It didn’t mean much to me, at 15, other than the fact that I had to get used to seeing my mother in glasses. Now I can hardly remember her without them.
I got my own glasses when I was in grade 12. I guess that would put me at about 17 years old. I needed them for distance because I could no longer read what was written on the chalkboard.
I’ve never needed glasses for reading. In fact, I usually read by either taking off my glasses or, typically, simply looking up over or down under the lenses. I hardly notice I’m doing it but I know I do it all the time.
Actually, I should say that I hardly noticed I did it. Suddenly, I seem to notice. I notice that things I used to be able to see clearly through my glasses are suddenly not quite so clear. Suddenly things I used to be able to read easily without my glasses now take an extra second or two as I find just the right distance at which to hold them to bring things into focus. Heck, last weekend I was editing photos and was horrified because they all looked slightly out of focus. Not a good thing considering it was a family photoshoot. I pulled my laptop a wee bit closer and suddenly everything looked crisp and focused – just as it should have. Thank goodness!
Looks like my mother’s optometrist was correct all those years ago. Forty is the magical age when it comes to vision. I expect my fall optometrist appointment will have me walking out with my first prescription for bifocals.
I guess the silver lining on this latest discovery is that a new prescription is an excuse for a fun new colourful pair of glasses.