There’s an old Twilight Zone episode that tells the story of a man who wants to read all the time, but between the demands of his wife, his job, and his daily routine, he can never find a moment to do it. And then the H-Bomb falls, and everything is obliterated –everything, that is, except the library.
And that’s where he finds himself, the only survivor of the apocalypse, on the steps of a library filled with books. But as he runs up the steps, his eyeglasses fall off, and he accidently steps on them, crushing them.
I keep thinking about this episode as I watch my sight deteriorate. My nearsightedness, which I’ve had since I was in second grade, keeps getting worse, while my farsightedness, which I developed at the age of 45, continues to deteriorate as well. When they meet in the middle, and I can longer see near or far, life will be one blurry mess. And that’s when I will finally, at long last, give birth to a child. I just won’t be able to see him.