FAMILY MATTERS
Keen insight helps when self-image gets blurry

By Michael C. DeMattos

My daughter looked at me with pleading eyes, held out her hand and then asked, "Are you going to need the pin?"

I took her hand in mine and drew it near for closer inspection.

Funny thing is, I did not need to find the splinter to know it was there. My daughter's eyes told me all I needed to know. She hated splinters, and rightfully so. Removing the splinter is often more painful than the splinter itself.

Still, my daughter came to me, seeking my official diagnosis and prognosis. Unfortunately, I was unable to deliver either. The closer her hand got to my face, the less I could see. In fact, I felt my head draw back and my eyebrows lift in a vain attempt to make out the injury.

I know the splinter hurt, and I know I only made it worse by digging it out with a sanitized pin. Still, it was my diminishing sight that I was lamenting. I knew that it was inevitable; many of my friends have reading glasses, and I am sure that soon I will too. It is just that my eyesight was my claim to fame. I had super-sight, better than 20-20!

Some people are beautiful, others athletically gifted. I even know a couple of people who are actually brilliant.

Me, I have good eyesight.

Or, I should say, I had good eyesight.

Look, it is not just about losing the sight. I lost all my other fine attributes way too early. By 24, I was balding. At 30, my waist began to fill out, long before I gained a full appreciation for beer. This was nothing less than criminal! Then at 35, what little hair I had left began to gray.

I was hoping to keep the vision.

Maybe I am just making a big thing out of nothing. I know that I am not alone in this condition. Presbyopia is common for folks my age. Perhaps therein lies the secret. The condition occurs with such frequency in midlife, it must have metaphorical meaning.

It cannot be an accident if it is happening to all of us. Maybe this is nature's way of telling us that things become clearer with a little distance, that we need to back away and gain some perspective.

Those little details that drove us crazy in our youth will seem trivial when the bigger picture is considered. Can I get an amen? Please?

Oh, who am I fooling? I remember saying my gut was a sign of contentment and my gray hair a reflection of inner wisdom. The best was my baldness, which was nothing less than excess manhood. Too much testosterone, don't you know!

In the end, life is what we make of it, but it does not necessarily need metaphors or hidden meaning to be rich. Life can be quite the spectacle. Sometimes you just need a pair of spectacles to enjoy the show.

Family therapist Michael C. DeMattos has a master's degree in social work.