The Art of Aging
I am aging, there is no doubt about that. Of course, we are all aging from the day we are born right up until the moment we die. However, when aging confronts us with impediments, especially in doing what we love tough decisions must be made.
Surgery It is
I have known for at least a decade cataract surgery was on the horizon. In fact three different eye doctors over the course of several moves have been “watching” my cataracts. All three agreed, surgery wasn’t needed yet. But wait, I shared, “then why do see multiple moons, can’t drive at night, in the rain or if the sun is in my eyes?” The answer was always the same, “Your cataracts aren’t bad. We’ll check again at your next visit.” Then I reached the end of my thread – literally. No amount of well aimed light and high-level magnifiers worn over my prescription glasses allowed me to see my work and attack it with confidence.
And She’s Back
I made the tough decision that my aging eyes simply weren’t up to the task of creating artwork with ease. Working in the studio was loosing its appeal. Fortunately, knowing cataract surgery was in the offing I had already identified the surgeon I planned to consult. What grabbed me, beyond his stellar reputation, is that he believes the time to surgically correct your eyesight is when it impacts your quality of life. My aging eyes definitely qualified.
Hurrah! I am back McTavishing. More importantly the joy is back. I still have the other eye to go. That happens 11 days from now. But I am feeling optimistic. I may not have the eyesight of my youth, but it is good enough to do what I love. Not bad for an aging septuagenarian.
Last week I added the stem to my orange flower. This week I joined the flower with its neighboring blue buds. I’m having such fun creating How Does Your Garden Grow flower by flower.
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