Yesterday I played my first round of golf since getting my new right eye. Wonder of wonders, I could actually track the flight of the ball as I hit my shots, wayward or not. And then, to top it off, I could actually see the ball on the ground in the distance. I couldn’t count the years since I’d been able to do that. My playing partner brother was much relieved to be relieved of his ball tracking duty, and I was happy to take it back. New left eye comes in July.

Of course, airborne Saharan sand eventually made both eyes itchy and scratchy, and I wonder, too, if calling so hard on the right eye might actually make it tired and reluctant to perform. I might need to be careful about that until his partner arrives. I’ve also been reading books at a voracious pace, but readers help, and I think the left eye has a better chance of pitching in when I’m in the pages of a book.

For the record yesterday, I shot an 86 with three birdies and three triple bogies. Talk about up and down. Another thing I could see was the writing on the ball as I lined up my putts. I think that was the most fascinating thing about the entire day because the writing is tiny and totally encased in the black line you use to line up the putt. I had a sense of wonder every time I looked down, and its good to have a sense of wonder now and again, even if it is on a golf course as the temperature is climbing to triple digits.  

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale