In memoriam: My 20/20 Vision

1974-2023. May it rest in peace.

The 20/20 (or maybe even 10/20?) vision of Jane Roper, aged 48, died peacefully at home last month, surrounded by things with unreasonably small type on them. Survivors include what’s left of Jane’s vision (which is fortunately a lot), the flawless vision of her children, and the presumably good night vision of her two cats.

Jane’s ability to see both near and far with stunning clarity was long predeceased by that of her nearest blood relatives—her parents and brother—who couldn’t believe, and were frankly a little annoyed by, the fact that she’d made it so long without needing glasses, given that they were all wearing them by their late twenties. Same goes for her beloved husband, Alastair, who has been nearsighted basically forever.

Jane’s stellar vision was always ready to lend a helping..…eye, and was often called upon (or not) by others to read distant signs on the highway, in airports, and elsewhere. Many times, upon reciting aloud what she saw in the distance, Jane received the response that warmed the cockles of her retinas: “Wow, you can read that?”

Jane’s vision will also be remembered for its ability to read, even in dim light, Penguin Classics editions of very important books as well as mass-market paperbacks from the 1960s-1980s, when apparently everyone’s vision was much better. Maybe because there weren’t microplastics in the water supply or antibiotics in meat or something? Who knows.

Like many people, Jane was at first in denial about the waning strength of her beloved, bodacious vision. In fact, to this day, she can frequently be heard saying things such as: “It’s not like I need glasses to read. It just makes it a little more pleasant, especially when I’m tired” or “Seriously, though, can anyone actually read this?” while extending her arms fully away from her body in an attempt to read, say, the dosage amount on a bottle of NyQuil.

One of the most traumatizing moments in the gradual and then shockingly precipitous decline of Jane’s eyesight—which was first restricted merely to a worsening of her near-vision—was the morning last month when she and Alastair were en route to the airport, and the print on billboards and signs in the far distance that normally would have looked sharp and clear, looked slightly doubled and blurry. Jane repeatedly rubbed her eyes, thinking there must be something in them, and then, while waiting for her flight, Googled things like “sudden change vision brain tumor?”

Thus far, Jane’s slightly diminished distance vision has not presented any major issues. However, Jane now lists the word “bifocals” among her triggers.

But while the loss of her lifelong, ocular companion has been a source of wistfulness, melancholy, and the utterance of such erudite lamentations as “fuck, I’m getting old,” Jane has done her best to accept the loss and move forward. She is doing this in part by telling herself that glasses are an exciting new way to accessorize—and also an excellent way to procrastinate, by virtually trying them on at the Peepers and Warby Parker websites.

[Note: Jane did not end up buying any of the above.]

In another example of looking on the bright side (where it also happens to be easier to read) Jane figures she’ll look “extra author-ly” if she whips out a pair of her +1.25s while reading aloud from her book when she’s on tour in the coming weeks. To this end, she recently purchased a pair of orange readers, to match the cover of The Society of Shame. She doesn’t know how they look on her, though, because when she looks at herself in the mirror wearing them, it’s all blurry—a cruel irony of reading glasses. If you come to one of her events, you can tell her yourself. (SEE how she did that?)

Services and visiting hours will not be held for Jane’s perfect vision. In lieu of flowers, please send cool reading glasses, large type books, and carrots. (And please don’t tell Jane it’s only going to get worse. Believe me, she knows.)

P.S. I had the opportunity to put together this fun list of book recommendations / reviews for Shepherd, which is an excellent site for finding your next read, with tons of cool lists. Check it out.

P.P.S. The Society of Shame drops on Tuesday! I’m both excited and terrified. Thanks so much for the support that so many of you have shown over the course of this endless buildup, and the pre-orders you have placed! I would be delighted to see/meet you at one of my events on THE TOUR OF SHAME. The first one is Porter Square Books in Cambridge on 4/6, then I’ll be in Milwaukee (this one will be extra fun, with drinks and apps and things! Come!), Chicago, and Iowa City. Then back on the East Coast after that.

P.P.P.S. If you’d like to take our relationship to the next level, come hang with me over on Facebook (did I mention I’m old?) and/or Instagram.