OH, SAY CAN YOU SEE? JOSE’, CAN YOU SEE?

This afternoon I decided to rest my eyes, and pulled back the old recliner, propped a book over my eyes to keep the light out, and started to rest the old eyes. I wasn’t sleeping, just resting the peepers for further use.

Suddenly I heard the phone ring but didn’t pay any attention to it since #2 Son was home, and it probably was for him anyway. I returned to my rest mode, and tried to remember what I was resting about when the kid comes down stairs and taps me on the foot, hands me the portable phone and says “It’s Mom, she wants to talk to you.”

After a brief interrogation by TLW (The Little Woman), where I usually plead either: ignorance, forgiveness or outright denial of the posed question I realized one of my eyes had gone bad. I mean really bad! I was so blurry, yet the other eye (right) was fine! Oh God, what happened?

The lens in my glasses had popped out of the frame, and it scared me to death. Now I had to get one of those little eyeglass kits and try to screw in the frame to hold the lens.

Have you ever tried to screw in the frame with the tiny little screws, and the magnetic screwdriver? The screw dances on the head of the screwdriver, my fingers are too big and get in the way of securing the screw, and I am going cross-eyed trying to manage the whole operation. Time after time I tried to screw in the tiny little screw, time after time it would not take.

I occurred to me that perhaps the screw was too large for the hole. I thought: nah, the screws should all be universal in size, especially since we are going so small. But being an inquisitive person at times, I unscrewed the handle of the screwdriver and noticed that the screw I was using was larger than the others. I chose another smaller screw, and thought: “Great even smaller, why not.”

The tiny screw went in on the first try! Yes! I did it! Or did I? Now I have to fit the lens into the frame, and align the frame holes to match for the screw. Of course you have to handle the lens and get fingerprints on the lens. I grab the lens, squeeze the frame around the lens and now try to align the frame and fit the lens and hold the screw and not look cross-eyed and ignore the arthritis that is now settling in my hand as a headache starts to take over.

Slowly I squeeze, squinting and twisting. In goes the lens; carefully I get it to fit properly into the frame as the screw sets into place! I look at the glasses and smile. I notice that the lens needs to be cleaned.

Somewhere children are playing, and somewhere the sun sets, somewhere flowers bloom in all their glorious splendor, but I’ll never see it, that damned lens popped out again!