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I closed my newly operated eye and looked at the TV screen through the one with the cataract. Then I closed that eye and reversed the process. I was amazed! The new eye saw a bright, sparkling image. The untouched eye saw a greyish greenish screen of dull colors. I had had no idea what I was missing before I had my first cataract operation. When something begins gradually, it is more difficult to notice. I had had the cataracts for some time before they were considered ready to be removed. I knew I needed more and more light to see by and had trouble distinguishing some colors, but thought nothing of it.

Seeing Clearly

An apple a day has many health benefits and tastes good too! As I write this, I can smell the applesauce cooking in my slow cooker. Made from unpeeled, cut apples, and simmered a while with half cider and half water, to cover, my applesauce needs no further seasoning or sweetening. Once cooked, I put it through my trusty food mill—I picked mine up at a yard sale, however they are available both in stores and on the internet. The money you save on canned or otherwise processed applesauce will soon pay for the food mill and your applesauce will be more nutritious.

I used to chafe sometimes at my lists of things to do—sigh and say to myself, oh if I only had more free time to write poetry or organize, edit and tidy up my writings. It seemed to me that what I thought of as my daily or sometimes weekly drudgery took too much of my precious time and energy and I resented it.  However, that was before the onset of the pandemic and the seeming disintegration of all that has constituted daily life and living, both personal and for my country.

When I was little, I was taught to stand up when adults entered the room. I was told to listen when spoken to and not to interrupt. I was instructed to write thank you notes when I received a gift and to say" thank you," or "you're welcome,", as opposed to "no problem," when appropriate.  This was called good manners. I was considered a sign of respect for one's elders. To be sure, despite being taught to respect others, no one thought to teach me to respect myself. My grandmother would have laughed and thought it a joke that my feelings or desires ought to be respected.

I do not remember much changing in my life when I was growing up. My parents living room furniture never altered. The house looked the same except that once after years of my mother's complaints it was painted red. We never moved; my father kept the same job, the list goes on. World War II brought certain kinds of changes, yet nothing close to what we have recently gone through with the advent of Covid 19.

 This experience could be called a kind of war, yet the conflict is not between peoples but between all of us and an invisible, yet deadly foe. The rapid changes we have all endured have been part of the battle, weapons to fight this insidious and life-threatening enemy. The normal days we have all been living have been whisked away, replaced by a new normal that includes masks, frequent hand washing, and social distancing.

Solstice Melody