As I approach my 45th birthday, I have been facing the signs of aging with equanimity. I dye my hair every month and fastidiously pluck out the gray hairs from my eyebrows. I have accepted the fact my metabolism has slowed down since my 20s.
However, I didn't realize I would need bifocals so soon! This has been a major stumbling block for me. Although I squint while reading the newspaper, and may have picked up a few large-print books from the library, that doesn't mean I need bifocals, right?
Bifocals mean I am unequivocally old. Bifocals mean I am turning into my mother. Bifocals mean an AARP membership is looming in my future.
In a desperate bid to stave off bifocals, I even went to a LASIK consultation. The eye doctor rattled off a bunch of jargon, and then told me he would have to do bifocal LASIK surgery. One eye would be optimized for near distance, and another would be optimized for far distance.
Or I could both eyes lasered to 20/20 vision -- and then have to wear reading glasses anyway.
My mom assured me that no one can even tell she wears bifocals nowadays. Her blended bifocals are both discreet and fashionable, with no tell-tale line demarcating the lenses.
In hindsight, I should've also listened to my mom 35 years ago. I would sneak a flashlight to bed and stay up late reading under the covers. When she caught me, she said I was going to ruin my eyes.