A speck of dust hit my left eye.
It’s all red and feels painful.
Then I thought of my friend from Junior High.
He was drafted and went to war.
Just to come back with one eye left.
We have hung out at cafe, more than any other classmate since that time.
Just a few nights ago, I said goodbye to him before he went back States.
I can relate to his condition just now: he has seen and will continue see his world with only half his vision.
However, it’s he who has been in better spirits than I.
His memories serve him better than most people.
A black-belt in Tai Kwan Do, he manages to live independently for years before getting married late in life.
Even after surviving a stroke, he still carries himself with full optimism.
I guess when you have less to see with, you filter less, hence see more.
In 11 years since we reconnected, I have heard not a self-pity word out of his mouth.
The funny thing is, those who have never been in the battle field bragged about it more.
Until they come face to face with his fake eye. Those with one mouth and two eyes decide to speak less and see more.
For me, one’s full body parts are irrelevant when it comes to friendship. Just shared time and shared memories.
We accept each other, taking turn at talking. Our group have music and movies lovers. We were not into power or the struggle for it. I wish for him safe passage and quick jet-lag recovery. Since he paid for our coffee last Monday, the next time it will be on me.
My left eye, although hurt, yet helps me appreciate my friend more. Better than other days, when I got both eyes but saw less. (We can now fade in Lennon‘s Oh My Love…for the first time in my life, my eyes can see).
Thang Nguyen 555 