My father once told me this story about his eyes -

When he was in middle school he sat next to a boy who wore glasses. My father was always straining to see the board and could never understand why it was so hard to make out what the teacher was writing up there. Then, one day, the boy lent the spectacles to him. My father had never worn a pair and he thought the glasses were magic. Suddenly the world looked completely different, and I can assume it was a world he had never before seen or even been able to imagine. His family was poor and had emigrated from Mexico; he probably didn’t even know anyone who wore glasses.

And so, he refused to give them back to the boy.

My grandmother went out and bought Dad his own pair, once she had saved up enough money. Since then my father has had surgery on his eyes. He now has perfect vision.

I myself have glasses and contacts. I have inherited the squinting stares at the board, the awe of how different the world can look if viewed through two square pieces of glass. For those of you that do not have vision problems, I am deeply envious and simultaneously saddened that you might never experience sight the way I do. To naturally see the world in muddled shapes and colors is like eternally walking through a piece of abstract art. I see things differently than other people because I do not have 20/20 vision. But I am able to have crisp clarity if I so desire. I can choose detail over non-distinction by putting on a pair of glasses.

I bring my father’s story up because in the recent weeks, in the whirlwind of work, deadlines, missed meals, forced smiles, stress, and confusion, I have been thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to deal every morning with how I choose to view the world.

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Should I wear contacts?

No, they might aggravate my tired eyes.

Okay then maybe glasses… but yesterday when I wore them my eyes were strained.

All right I’ll go with the contacts. But I have to wash my hands before putting them in or else my eyes will be irritated all day.

Now I have to run down the hall to the bathroom.

And now I am late for French.

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How different would every morning be if I just woke up able to see the world in perfect clarity?

It sounds pretty good.

But then I went to a concert in a little black box theatre.

The lights casting blue and pink against the black back wall, the glint of the performers’ guitars as they swayed to the music, the lead singer’s indigo shirt…. without my glasses on it all looked like another world, an ethereal parallel universe where colors melded and lines didn’t exist.

“Why do I want to lose this separate way of seeing, again?” I asked myself.

Now I am looking through new eyes - those that appreciate my perspective on life. Perhaps I wasn’t cursed with bad vision…. I was blessed with two different ways of seeing.

 ————————————- Elizabeth de Luna ——————————————-