Johnny Lynch was the name of my grandfather’s cousin. They were about the same age and always together during my childhood.
[NOTE: The cover photo above, taken c.1977-ish, is of me with my sister (left), grandpa (center), and Johnny (right).]
Johnny was blind, but I didn’t realize that until I was about 7 or 8.
In my defense, it was the ’70s and people didn’t talk about their ailments or point out differences. Plus, Johnny was super clever. My grandpa used to feed him information so he could make everyday observations—like the color of my dress or how my hair was styled that day.
Those two—Charlie and Johnny—were always in cahoots. I’d like to think they’d be proud of how I’m handling my declining eyesight in midlife.
About 15+ years ago, I started wearing reading glasses. Mainly to read really small print, like food labels and online disclaimers. But now I wear progressive lenses. Not only can I not read small lettering, I also can’t see things farther away—like road signs and the closed-caption subtitles on TV (which I use because my hearing sucks,too).
I’m all about embracing the ups and downs of getting older. For the most part, anyway. I feel no shame using the largest font possible on my phone so I can read my texts, and I’m totally fine having to wear my glasses to chop vegetables so I don’t slice my fingers. (I learned that lesson the hard way … More than once, unfortunately!)
But what I can’t yet accept are those times when it’s not possible to wear my glasses and I’m left feeling helpless and blind.
Case in point: the shower.
Am I the only one with aging eyes who struggles to decipher the shampoo bottle from the conditioner? They look exactly the same and the print is so damn small, even with my glasses I probably wouldn’t be able to read the labels.
I feel like Velma from Scooby Doo …
The only thing worse is when I lose my glasses (which happens more than I’d like to admit) and can’t find them because I can’t see without them. Talk about a midlife crisis!
After years of fumbling in the shower and wasting my fair share of conditioner, I finally channeled my inner Johnny Lynch and devised a workaround …
Using dark nail polish, I now label each bottle with a large ‘S’ or ‘C’ before I put them in the shower. I use nail polish because the letters become slightly raised, allowing me to feel them when I can’t see them.
It’s not perfect and it’s definitely not pretty (after all, I’m using nail polish to write), but it gets the job done. I think my grandpa and Johnny would be pleased with my ingenuity—even if I’m only tricking myself.
—LJDT
