These glasses were often misplaced

These were my Mom’s glasses. My Mom was rarely seen without them. As a kid, it was always strange to see her bare-faced or to stumble upon old photos where she wasn’t wearing them. Glasses were her window to the world, sharpening her reality, bringing everything into focus—until her later years, when dementia clouded her vision of the world and her glasses became an item often misplaced, eventually becoming unnecessary. We would gently put them on her in hopes of bringing her closer to us to share a picture or a moment over a FaceTime call. But by then, she was reluctant to wear them. Now, when I think of her, I remember how those glasses defined her look, and I miss seeing her with them, the way they framed her eyes and helped her see the world and us more clearly. They were more than a visual aid; they were a symbol of the clarity she possessed before dementia took that away.