Opinion

Beauty is in eye of the beholder

People love to complain, and that includes me. But this week, dear reader, I can’t. Every now and again you get those times when everything is just perfect, and last weekend was such a perfect moment in an imperfect life.

The previous week I had to go to an eye hospital to have an eye repaired as my sight has deteriorated dramatically over the past months. Now I have one operational eye and last weekend I was still overwhelmed by the clarity, brightness and the beautiful colours of everything I looked at.

I have to admit, when I looked in the mirror shortly after the procedure, I saw an old, wrinkly man in the mirror, which I interpreted as an eye which does not work as it should. But it sees everything else so clearly, that I have decided the problem must be with the mirror.

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On the Thursday before the weekend, I took my dog to the vet to look at a suspicious lump on her chest. It turned out to be the doggy version of breast cancer and the vet suggested immediate surgery. But by the weekend she was up and about and showed unmistakable signs of recovery.

It was my birthday on Saturday and for once my children treated me like the king of our humble home. They gave me an air fryer as a gift – no socks or soap-on-a-rope this year! And in the evening the lovely Snapdragon took me to a spa and spoilt me rotten.

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On Sunday we went on a wonderful outing and in the evening I sat at home – shocked by how wonderful my weekend was. Blessings, blessings, blessings… Is it a sign of old age that such simple things can have such an overwhelmingly positive effect on my life? I don’t know. I’m certainly not as old and battered as that wrinkly old guy in the mirror, but I’m no spring-chicken.

Probably just mature enough to count my blessings. Which I can’t do without a calculator. Snapdragon will probably say it’s because I’m getting too old to do maths in my head, but I’m sure she’s just joking. Bless her evil little heart.

The truth is that I don’t have enough fingers on my hands to count the positive things that are happening to me. The love of my wife, the love of my children … Isn’t life just perfect? Or it would be if I can just find a good wrinkle cream.

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By Dirk Lotriet