New glasses ordered

Fortunately I already had a new prescription from my ophthalmologist (slight change in distance vision) since I somehow managed to get a scratch on the lens of my glasses. I've blamed it on the cat, but honestly, he may not be the culprit. I'd picked him up and hugged on him (which he isn't especially fond of), he squirmed, I put him down, and when I looked back up, I saw what I thought was a hair on the lens. I tried blowing it off. Nothing happened. Then I tried cleaning it off. Nothing happened.

So the next morning I took myself down to Pearle Vision and ordered new glasses. They are extremely simple (silver frames) and fit my face much better than the ones I've been wearing. I won't be constantly looking over the tops of them, so that will be good. Unfortunately, I have to wait about three weeks for them to come in, but happily, the people there were able to minimize the lens scratch on my current glasses. I want to have these turned into reading glasses since they sit so low on my face anyway.

Lots of celebrities have passed away recently. Rue McClanahan died yesterday. As I age, I get better about facing the idea of my own demise one day. I'm not expecting a heaven or a hell, just an end, and maybe that scares a lot of people. I've come to terms with this concept: If I live fully and meaningfully, with purpose, with the goal of helping and not harming others, then I've done all I could, and that's all anyone can do. Trite, yes. But it gives me a sense of peace. I used to feel panic when I thought of all that I had left to do or that I wanted to do. My bucket list. And I still have a number of goals. I still want to go to England. I still want to see the Louvre in Paris. I still want to see a grandchild, but that's out of my control. I want my children to be settled and happy, but again, that's out of my control. I've accomplished my professional goals, but I do want to write (and get published) a murder mystery. (I've got a doozy I'm working out right now.) But if I died without having my name in print again, that's okay. What Ellie and I did with My Mama's Waltz has been powerful and good, and that's something I'm grateful for having accomplished.

Maybe I'm getting all maudlin because I'll be 59 next month. My mother's mother (pictured on this blog) lived to be 89. I might be that fortunate, but I don't want to die of colon cancer the way she did. I'd rather die at age 59 than to have to suffer such a death. One of the fortunate aspects of my life is that I've got reasonably good health care available to me, something most of my family can't say.

Anyway, I was just feeling a bit philosophical. Nothing serious or dangerous, folks. Just what happens after a quiet morning.