On a rare night out for dinner, my husband and I found a place to sit in the restaurant’s lobby while we waited for a table. My husband reached towards the ottoman across from us and handed me a menu.
He handed me a menu.
To look at.
I can’t see to read a menu.
Honestly, my first reaction was WHAT THE . . . My second thought was WHAT THE . . . I looked at him and he at me, his eyes wide, and shook his head. We both were a little in shock. And although I knew it was completely innocent, I was hurt. I could not conceive how that had just happened.
We haven’t spoken about it but I have mulled it over. When I am with my friends they will sometimes forget my sight limitations and point something out to me to look at. They don’t think about it because to them I am the person they have always known, regardless of my visual acuity. And although no one has walked my journey with me more than my husband, it is the same for him. I’m still the woman he has spent over half his life with. We have added a lot of a la carte items to our menu over the years, but In the end, all the favorites from the beginning remain. And that’s what he sees when he looks at me.
I don’t need a menu. I’ll have what I’m having.
