I’m still reveling in the miracle of the eyes. The removal of the cataracts that dulled my vision, made reading impossible and driving at night difficult. Some days it just makes me want to swoon with how beautiful the world is in all its colors and light. I hope I noticed it before this, but I imagine I, like so many others, simply took it for granted and didn’t really see what they were seeing. I believe I’m making up for lost time now, however.

I noticed it again last night as I made the long drive in from Austin after a good night of music and friendship. There were cars. There were stars. We drove. The lights slid by. The road ahead was clear. There was no glare nor flares, just lights in the night. People on missions to God knows where. Home, I hope or someplace nice. The warm embrace of a loved one. The smile of a child. The quick bark of a dog. The back of a cat on a leg. Hello’s. How are you. I’m glad you’re home.

When I got to my own home, I could hear the rippling water of the re-installed fountain and see the milky way. My own cats came to greet me. I stood in the chill air and looked at Orion’s belt and the big dipper. The night air was clear, and I could see the woods in the pasture beyond where the fox lives and the deer walk, and I wanted to sit outside for a moment, but it was late and I was tired, so it was off to bed with a book. And that didn’t last long. Sleep came, and now here I am. Up. Reading a screen without my glasses. A blessing for sure. One of many.

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