Sunday, March 22, 2015

Contacts and Perspectives

Dear World,

  This week I took a big step--I got old. At least, I told my optometrist I felt old and he, a 67+ yr old, laughed at my 27 yr. old vanity.

I got contacts.

  Not really a big deal, right? Definitely not a sign of decrepitude. But, still, I've always prided myself on my 20/20 or 20/15 or whatever vision--we've got to have achievements of some kind, right?

  But that's over, now. I have these contact lenses that I wear probably 70% of the time. When I first put them in (after about 19 tries to get it into my left eye--sheesh!) and drove away from the doctor, I was happily surprised by the clarity of budding springtime leaves scores of yards away and individual pine trees on the mountainside--it wasn't a "I was blind, but now I see" moment, but more similar to those Claritin allergy medicine commercials where a cloudy film is peeled off the world and everything is just more brilliant and visible. Not a life-saver, but definitely a life-sweetener.

  Contacts. They take what is already there, enhance your already-existing abilities, and create a sharper picture that allows you to better understand and enjoy the world around you. They do take maintenance and care, and sometimes only for slight vision improvement, but it is better, and sometimes that little bit makes all the difference.

It changes your perspective on the world. On the life you are living.

  We each have "contacts" moments in our lives. Things that change our perspective. Things that sharpen the view and give more vibrancy, clarity, or comprehension to us. Things that don't necessarily change reality, but enhance our grasp of reality.

You don't always need and eye-opener; sometimes just an eye-sharpener will do.

  This isn't the best post to include this on, but thinking about life perspectives and such--as I did for this post--originated in thoughts regarding a dear friend of mine who's had plenty of opportunity to gain a truer perspective and who's put in the effort and maintenance a clearer view demands. She inspires me to tune up the way I approach life--to be more like her.

  Bonsai, next month, will have battled breast (and then bone, and then brain, and then spine) cancer for two years. Her toddler and baby have now sprouted into one precocious five year-old and one tenacious three year-old. When she was given the "less-than six months" diagnosis, she and her husband moved their kids from their Indiana home back to Utah to spend time with family--and I was blessed enough to live nearby. I've been able to have some wonderful moments with her and to pray in gratitude as those short six months grew into almost nine months of relative health and mobility.

 Now doctors are telling her that her window is closer to four weeks.

  There have be so many blessings. There have been so many moments to be grateful for. So many memories made. There have also been so many hard times. So many challenges. So many "lasts" and unknowns. And during it all I've had the opportunity to see how Bonsai has taken this monsoon and found a perspective of clarity. She's taken moments to teach me what it means to be a family forever, to continue being a mom even if she isn't picking up her future teenage kids' dirty laundry. She's clarified what it means to have an eternal marriage, to parent together even when your spouse is on the other side of the veil of mortality that separates this world and the next. She's taught me to love in the moment and to have patience with those around you and yourself.

  It's times like this when I'd love to be a writer that can say something profound, that can really share something beautiful and striking through words, something that actually coveys what I feel about another human being. To write something that gives tribute to another beautiful soul. But hopefully you each have experiences to draw on that illuminate the clarity I've gained through this friendship that will last though eternity, either here though a miracle or spanning the boundaries that heaven draws.

  Thanks, Bonsai. I look forward to more fun and memories in the weeks and months to come, and also the deeper memories and experiences to be made in the following decades and eons.

1 comment:

  1. Beautifully written. Miss you and love seeing your updates here and on Facebook.

    ReplyDelete