The First Sign of Aging

I don’t know about you but I take myself very seriously. I am an expert at building molehills into mountains. Most of the time I can blow a minor inconvenience out of all proportion until it looks like a major calamity.

It was that way fifteen years ago when I had to give in to wearing bifocals. I fought it for a couple of years while I allowed reality to finally put me on that dreaded path to the optician’s office. There he told me I also had “presbyopia.” That’s all I needed to hear—I had old eyes. So I went reluctantly into bifocals. You would have thought someone had died! I went home and put on a black armband. For days I moped about this mammoth catastrophe that had hit me. Finally I climbed back from my “slough of despond.” Slowly I decided there was life after bifocals.