Closet contains memories

My husband and I were reminded of our advancing ages when we went out to eat recently. Neither of us had brought our reading glasses. We could read the big print on the menu but as to the descriptions ... let’s just say we had to take it on faith that the black blotches below the names of the dishes were type. Not even squinting helped.
The waitress offered us Braille menus. We wouldn’t have had any better luck reading those so we declined. Do they make translating reading glasses for fingers? We took a chance and ordered something. Mine was delicious. My husband’s ... not so much.
It made us wonder how illiterate people survive. The answer is that they either order the same thing all the time or have someone who helps them. As neither of us could see well enough to read and the waitress wouldn’t read to us we didn’t have that option.
I remember when neither of us needed reading glasses. Squinting was enough. That was a long time ago.
I’ve been cleaning out closets lately. I happened upon a pair of shorts I used to wear when we were first married. I remembered them as being very comfortable and somewhat baggy. They were tiny! I don’t recall ever being that skinny. Is my memory disappearing the way my waistline did?
Of course there are always things that are best forgotten. Elephant bells and Afro perms are among the styles I’m sorry were ever captured in photographs. My hair was meant to be long and straight. Any attempt to add curls results in my looking like a crazy, disheveled poodle. And elephant bell bottom jeans on a short person is not a good look.
I found the platform shoes I wore to my wedding. Even with the added height I was still more than a foot shorter than my husband.  I didn’t try them on as they appeared too small but I also didn’t get rid of them yet. These days I wear old lady shoes formerly known as sneakers. Comfort takes precedence over fashion.
Finding remnants of the person I used to be is another clue that I am not young anymore. Not being able to see as well as before is minor and easily corrected. Not being able to fit into clothes I used to wear is not so easily fixed but it could be done if I wanted to put out a lot of effort.
Much more difficult is regaining to optimism of youth. When the eyesight starts to fade the pessimism sets in. I start to realize that if I am going to do something I had better do it and not delay. At some point it becomes time to pursue dormant dreams and quit putting things off until tomorrow.
There were so many things I wanted to do with my life. We all have plans when we are young. The plans we make when we are 20 are far different from the plans we make at 50. I’m in the process of reorganizing my dreams as well as my possessions. I’m sure I’ll discard some dreams as being outdated or too small. But is it time to dust off others and see if they can be adapted, pursued, or - dare I hope - fulfilled?
Sorting through dreams and clothes leaves me wondering where the time went and what does the future hold? Do I have a prayer of fitting into those shorts again? More importantly where are my glasses?[[In-content Ad]]