Friday, July 1, 2011

A Sight for Poor Eyes

If, like me, you’re cursed with severe nearsightedness, then you know that waking up in the morning can be a disconcerting event. If, like me, on most mornings you have to be out of bed and getting ready to go somewhere by a certain time, then you know that waking up and checking the time to see if more sleep can be had is not a simple matter of glancing at the clock. It involves fumbling for glasses on the nightstand, and they’re never in the spot where you put them the night before - never. Somehow, they’re on the floor, wedged deep between the bed and the nightstand, or they’re behind the lamp, only a few inches from where you thought, but for the nearsighted, they might as well be in another room. So, on many mornings, I lay in bed, my eyes not completely open and not completely closed, and I wonder what time it is, trying to gauge it by the blurry light seeping in around the blurry curtains, hoping I have more time to sleep, and putting off the fumbling for the glasses.

But this morning, I did not have anywhere to be by a certain time. I could sleep in. So I nestled in, waiting for sleep to return. I looked over to check on Violet, who we bring into our bed for her 5:30 feeding, and I saw she was awake, staring without expression up at the ceiling. She was holding her feet up, one hand on each foot. She turned and looked at me, only a few inches away – close enough for me to see, and a magnificent smile spread across her face. I’ll take that moment to my grave.

222 days old

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