...with my little eyes
Yesterday I was sitting outside, basking in the glorious sunshine. I had my eyes closed absorbing
all the vitamin D I could get. Once I closed my eyes I immediately heard the most beautiful sound, a single bird singing the songs of spring.
While listening to her, I asked myself the question;
what would be worse, being born blind, or going blind years down the road, after taking in all the wonderful sites our world has to offer.
Which would be worse for you?
I've often thought about that, more so lately. Today I am having Lasik eye surgery so I will no longer need to wear my eye glasses. I've been wearing bifocals for 3 years and I hate it.
I blame it on menopause, but my eye doctor looks at me each year and asks, "How old are you now?" When I went for the Lasik exam to see if I was a candidate for the procedure, I again blamed my poor eye sight on menopause. The tech looked at me and said, "Menopause has nothing to do with it, it's your age. Once you hit 40, your eyes change." Gee, thanks for once again reminding me I'm getting older!
I know I won't go blind from this surgery but one still has to ask themselves, what would happen if something went terribly wrong with the procedure and I came out of it blind. To answer my own question, I'd have to say I'd rather loose my sight after years of being able to see. I'd at least know what the color red looked like, how the feathers of a bird laid on top of each other, what my families faces looked like and what I looked like.
Being born blind, you have to rely on your sense of smell and touch, along with your imagination, in order to enjoy the things around you. How do you describe the color red to someone? A piece of granite stone with the colors brown, gold and white running through it? If someone says to you, "Imagine a tree that is really tall, sporting short branches that sprout beautiful pink flowers that look like small pocketbooks." It'd be pretty tough. If I'd never seen these things before, I'm not sure if I could imagine them, I wouldn't know what to compare the image to.
I know the surgery will be a huge success. I'll once again be able to ski without hitting a mogul and going airborne, I'll be able to approach a tennis ball without misjudging its position, I'll be able to hike mountains without tripping over tree roots and stubbing my toes on rocks, and most of all, I'll be able to wear my Maui Jim sunglasses I've missed sporting for the past 3 years. No more bifocals to interfere with my sports.
I'll let you know how it all turns out.