Proud

Today I awoke to a phone call from my father.

Yesterday he underwent some degree of ocular surgery in attempt to repair his eyesight.  He is one of the few people I know that share the particularly bad degree of vision I have adapted to (although he is not color blind as I am).  Clearly I inherited this vision from him, and something we have always agreed upon is the first thing you do every day is put your glasses on and the last thing you do is take them off and put them on the headboard.

The surgery he underwent was not a guaranteed winner.  There was a chance that his body would reject the operation and his eyesight would end up worse than ever.  Needless to say, his surgery was a success, and he is now able to see out of one eye (the other one shall be operated on next week) without the use of his glasses.

I can barely wrap my head around, as I'm sure he is experiencing, the idea of not wearing glasses.

The fact that he gets to grapple with his new problem of what to substitute in for the first and last thing to do everyday with a smile on his glasses-less face makes me proud of the old man.