Remembering

It's funny what gets a person thinking. This morning as I was riding the train into work I was trying to catch a few extra winks of sleep as I sat with my eyes closed and them train rocked and thrashed itself down the rails. I opened my eyes at once set of especially rough rocking and pushed my glasses back up my nose the rocking had gotten so severe I had nearly lost my glasses. I was being watched by a young, university blonde who smiled at me when I caught her staring at me. I pushed my glasses back up upon my nose and closed my eyes and rocked back into twilight.

I believe I started wearing glasses when I was in the 3^rd grade, at least I can see the little glasses holder, which threaded on to the belt and snapped shut supposedly holding the glasses secure. When I first got glasses I needed them only for reading. I could see just fine without them. Glasses were not traumatic for me. I was not saddled with nick names like four eyes, or squint or anything like that. The problem I remember most was keeping a pair for over a year's time with out loosing them.

Our small farm sat back off the main road about an eighth of a mile, a huge hay field separated out house from the bus stop which we cut through each day. I don't exactly remember but seemed I would run between fifty or seventy yards and have to jump a ditch and then another distance of about the same and jump another ditch and finish about twenty- five yards, crawl under a fence and be at the bus stop. We could only use the field to cut through after the hay season was finished or if the fields were used that year for corn, when the corn was finally harvested, until, then we used to have to walk the road which was a great deal longer way to get to the stop. Come Fall I was all about running the field.

I cannot remember how many times I got home and would reach for my glasses to find the container empty and I knew that I had some where in the gigantic field lost my glasses.

Once the irrigation stopped flowing at the end of the Summer the field would turn tan and yellow as the alfalfa went dormant. My glasses were brown or black making them almost impossible to easily see. In the fleeting daylight I would retrace my steps, or what I hopefully thought were my steps and leaps and usually to no avail. Then having to tell my mom who always seemed to take the event in stride. I was really surprised I did not get yelled at more then I did. I even prayed at times, falling right to my knees and really believing that when I finished with my prayer I would open my eyes and the glasses would be right there...they seldom were. It would take a week or so but eventually Dr Florenz would grind me another set and I would be careful for a couple of weeks bu eventually I would loose those too.

My eyes have deteriorated over the years and now I wear glasses all during my waking hours. I have not lost a pair in years. But I could remember running across Johnson's field this morning as I was coming in on the train—nodding in and out of conciseness—remembering days of running on cold December mornings, along long time ago.