Nine times out of ten, I destroy birthdays and Christmas.
I am pretty good at picking up my wife’s subtle hints about things she wants or would like to have. I try to pair something she really wants with a sentimental gift that will make her cry.
Sure, the point of giving gifts isn’t to see who can give the best gift, but I’m competitive and I think if my wife isn’t crying on after she opens up the gift(s) I got her, then I didn’t do my job.
This year, however, I had the tables turned on me.
I was unfortunately born with a vision impairment, extreme deuteranomaly, also known as colorblindness. Specifically, my eyes have a hard time distinguishing the difference between red and green light. It’s something I’ve lived with my entire life, so it’s never really effected me… other than the time I bought purple basketball shoes thinking they were “Duke” blue. It is something, however, that I always wished I could change about myself.
It’s annoying to have to look at the names of the crayons when I’m coloring with my toddler. It’s frustrating when people tell me how beautiful my four-year-old’s eyes are. It’s irritating that my wife has to coordinate my outfits every day so I don’t look ridiculous. And it is so strange that pink was one of my wedding colors because let’s be real, it’s really just an ugly shade of gray.
Anyways, this past year my wife saved up and bought me the most thoughtful gift I have ever received, a pair of Pilestone Colorblind Glasses. I had my eyes on a pair of these glasses for years now, but never picked them up because I viewed them as more of a “want” than a “need.”
Words can’t explain what they mean to me. The rush of adrenaline I felt when I saw purple for the first time, when I realized how bright red really is, and yes, saw just how beautiful my daughter’s eyes are.
Like always, there was some crying when we opened up presents on Christmas day, only this time it wasn’t my wife.
Hayden Coombs 