Monthly Archives: May 2008

I have discovered that the very dark Dove chocolates are the perfect pick me up at the end of a long day.  They are too dark to pig out on.  They melt in my mouth.  One is enough – well, maybe two.

Tonight, I put one in my pocket(well, two actually) when I left on my bike ride.  I stopped and sat a bit by the river.  And ate those chocolates.  They are wrapped in their own special deep red foil wraps that have little sayings written inside.  Little bits of wisdom to savour with the chocolate.

One said, "Reread your old poems."

I think I shall do some of that.  My old poems were often conversations with God.  I need to revisit them maybe.

When there is a perceived threat to part of one’s body, how important that part suddenly becomes.  At least in how that part is perceived and no longer taken for granted. 

On Tuesday, I began to notice a tiny line like a stray hair that drifted across my left eye.  It wasn’t noticeable enough to impede my sight but was noticeable enough that I noticed it.  I tried to wipe away the hair or film on the surface of my eye but found no stray hair, no reason that I could tell for it being there.  No pain though.  So I kept on going not terribly alarmed. 

I don’t recall that I noticed it after work that evening.  But it was there again the next day at work.  I think it had to do with the light coloured walls in the office and the white page on the computer screen.  In a jumble of colours I did not notice it.  However since it seemed not to be a figment of my imagination, was something new and was not going away on its own, I called the ophthalmologist, who squeezed me into his schedule on Thursday afternoon.

So, yesterday, after attending Patrick’s convocation where he was granted his BA Honours, we headed back home so I could get to my appointment and so Leo could put in a few hours of work. 

My eyes were thoroughly checked and my hopes that this was just a floater and no retinal detachment were realized.  What a relief. 

A person gains a new appreciation for the sense that is threatened.  On Wednesday, I remember looking up at the soft white clouds in the sky thinking of how much I would miss seeing the world around me if my sight were to go.  How much I would miss reading.  How I would miss seeing people’s faces. 

I now live with a renewed sense of wonder at my sight and all that it brings into my life.  I guess it is good to be reminded of these things every now and then, even if it is scary to be brought to this point.