by jkatejohnston

5 March 2015

Dear Max,

Sometimes I take off my new glasses to see what my vision used to be like, but my old vision doesn’t exist anymore and everything is a blur. How quick our brains are to adjust. So much more impressive than our minds that keep having the same thoughts over and over, at least mine does.

When I made my notes about this, it felt hugely significant, possibly symbolic, though I wasn’t sure what of. But I just read the notes, and they made no sense.

It reminds me of a few weeks ago when I was walking along the basement hallway at work. I saw a pair of legs and feet sticking out across the floor. A custodian was lying on his back fixing a drinking fountain. He was wearing shorts, and just from his legs I knew who it was. I rounded the corner and I was right. We said hello because we know each other by sight, though not by name. His existence had never crossed my mind, but his meaty calves were unmistakable.

It’s astounding that even someone as unobservant as I am is still taking it all in, filing it away, as unconscious and efficient as breathing. As Patrick O’Brian wrote somewhere, “A back is almost as recognizable as a face.”


I hate taking out the Enzo parts. I’ve never been one to hide my light under a bushel, and he’s a pretty bright light. I’m reduced to: My Thoughts (see above).

I will tell you though that Teresa tried to close our bedroom door behind her as she walked in, and it didn’t go as expected. “My butt got in the way!”

She’s never had a big butt, still doesn’t, so this was probably a one-time thing. It reminds me of when I was pregnant, and my butt was occupying space I’d never dreamed of, and since I couldn’t see it and my butt-cheek proprioception isn’t that great, I was constantly trying to get through spaces I had no business attempting, sweeping desks and tables clean.