“And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire.”
Matthew 18:9 KJV
I’ve had it since the age of seven, so it’s over fifty-one years old. It’s the only thing I’ve saved for so long. It’s been a talisman, a center of conversation, a source of both confidence and humility for me. It has affected my life in many ways, helping to shape my image of myself in different ways. When I was a kid, I was called names because of it. When I was a teenager, it kept me from fulfilling my desire to go into the military. I found it both comforting and irritating at any given moment. It’s been a sort of camouflage that hid my deformity. In these later years I’ve found it to be a nuisance more days than not. I still wear it, mainly to make others more comfortable around me. Yes, I have a prosthetic eye.
More commonly called a “glass eye”, they haven’t made them from glass for a long time. They’ve been making them from acrylic plastic since the nineteen-forties. It’s pretty durable, and easier to work with than glass. I’ve been wearing the same one for over five decades, so I can attest to it. Most people only notice that it appears that I have a “lazy eye” because after the first ten years or so, the muscles that help the eye move are slack, due to unuse. It just sits there, looking pretty.
In the last few years, I’ve taken to wearing a patch instead. Not always. Just when my eye irritates me or causes me discomfort. The plastic has, over the years, stopped absorbing as much moisture as it originally did, and that causes friction on my eyelid. That, in turn, causes mucus to form on the eye itself. Yuck, right? Well, it’s about as comfortable as it sounds. I keep a patch handy, in case that gets unbearable. The alternatives are either walk around with a bare socket or take it out every thirty minutes or so to wash it off. Neither of those options are very convenient. I get a lot of “what happened to your eye” questions when I wear the patch but imagine the reactions I’d get if I just went “commando”. Yeah, I’ll stick to the patch. The older I get, the less I care about making other people more comfortable about it. I do care, however, about how I feel. Picking my nose in public is something my folks told me is socially unacceptable. I feel the same way about doing that with my eye.
I got picked on when I was a child. I cried sometimes. I felt bad about being different. I didn’t want to be different. I let myself be hurt by jokes and puns back then. I’m grateful for a family that encouraged me and didn’t treat me differently. My brother and sisters all stood up for me at school whenever I was subjected to ridicule by the mob. They felt that was THEIR priviledge. Nobody picks on baby brother but them. Just kidding. Seriously though, thank you. You guys are still awesome. I’m usually the first one to tell an “eye joke” now. I’ve learned to accept who I am. I don’t take myself too seriously. I recognize that who I am has nothing to do with my prosthetic eye, or my patch. It’s all in how you deal with what life hands you. I choose to see beyond other people’s differences and disabilities because of what I went through. I think, oddly enough, that having one eye has expanded my horizons, rather than merely limiting my visibility.
So if you see me out and about, wearing a patch, you’ll know that there’s not anything wrong. I just left my eye at home, or in my truck. I choose to wear it, or not, like my many caps or hats. I decide on what I’m comfortable with that day. It’s more of a physical “garnish” to me. I kinda like being different. Our differences are what make us unique. People who can’t see that are blind in their own way. Remember: “in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” Yup. Til next time. I’ll keep an eye out for ya!
Rolling Stones 