In the previous post I wrote about how I was getting my daughter to help me with my Japanese penmanship. As I suggested to Claudia in a comment on that post, I was (at least partly) motivated by thinking about non-boring activities I could share with my growing daughter. And seriously, sitting down and practicing writing an alphabet has become much more interesting for me with my daughter as my tutor. Her gusto in teaching me is all the proof I need that she enjoys it too. She's "going to be eight next month, you know"... Hell, she'll be wanting to borrow the car any day now...
Anyway, as with any kind of reading, writing, or studying I do these days, I have to put on my glasses if I'm to see what the hell I'm looking at/doing. Doing this Japanese stuff is the first time I've kept my glasses on while sitting next to my daughter...
Wow. I can see the fine hairs on her arms, and the place where she's been scratching a mosquito bite. When she looks me in the face I notice this very light, downy hair on her cheeks. I stare as if I'm seeing her for the first time. I mean, she's my kid, so she's already the most beautiful thing ever to set foot on planet earth in my eyes. But this is almost overwhelming. Wow.
Eye glasses are truly a wondrous invention.
Oh, this is beautiful, Rick!
ReplyDeleteFathers and daughters - it's a delicate love! And, apart from what we can see wearing glasses, I wonder what else is invisible in this unique relationship?
Anyway, although overwhelmed by your text, I couldn't help thinking about my own feelings on becoming increasingly dependent on eye glasses to read, write, etc.
The truth is: I do remember a time when I could see all people's face in detail, including mine. Now, when it comes to look at my face in the mirror, I am glad I cannot see all the lines that tell my 45 years of history. I see a blur and pretend this is all there is to it ;-) (husband is not allowed to kiss me with his glasses on - just in case, you know...;-)
Hi Rick, You're preaching to the choir about corrective lenses! What a beautiful piece of writing. And to Claudia, you're lovely. This is corny to say so, but I really think everyone looks better when they're smiling, the spirit shines through, and it doesn't matter about some lines. thanks, sp
ReplyDeleteHi Sussah,
ReplyDeleteYeah, I used to agree with your view that lines don't matter... until mine started to show up. I don't waste time thinking about it, though. Life has so many other things to offer! Also, I hate the cosmetic alternatives to wipe out lines. So, that's it - we just learn to live with gravity. Smiling as much as possible!
Gravity! that's great! sp
ReplyDeleteClaudia and Susanna,
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you liked the post. Clearly, though, I'm going to have to find some way to sit next to, oh, my mother or someone, and wax lyrical about how my glasses showed her to be even more beautiful than I'd thought. Why, I could make women the world over chill out and bring down the cosmetic companies with one stroke of the pen (er, one clack of the keyboard). ;-)