Melissa, whose son, Anderson has a pediatric cataract, sent in this post dedicated to Anderson’s eye patch.  She blogs at A boy, his brother, and the mischief they find. – Ann Z

Dear Eyepatch,

Hi. I hope you’re doing well.

I feel like this is really awkward because we both know that I have put this off for a long time and you have just been too professional to say anything. I appreciate that.

It has been 2 1/2 years to the day since we first met. 30 months. That is a long time for a relationship between a person and a band-aid.

I really hated you the first time I saw you. Actually, if I am being honest, I not only hated you, I resented, despised, loathed and cussed you. I did not understand why you were in my life if not to just stress me out and make me even crazier.

The new Monster Truck version in all it’s glory.

In my defense, you made me cry a lot. It was hard to see you constantly interrupting my perfect life and stealing my sanity and making me feel like I was hurting my baby by forcing you on him all day, every day.

As time went on, my hatred of you turned into annoyance. I was so annoyed by your constant presence. You seemed to smug to me, just sitting there, taunting me. Annoyance often manifested itself into resentment, which made me even more agitated with you because it wasn’t the fault of anyone else that you were so happily camped out in our lives.

My resentment very gradually turned into acceptance. Over the course of many, many months, I came to accept that you are a part of our lives. I begrudgingly began to admit that you do, in fact, belong here.

Through all of my crazy range of emotions, you remained a stable presence in our lives. You have changed colors and designs. You smell a little differently at times and sometimes you are a little stickier, which I appreciate, especially in the summer months. You have survived stuck to the bottom of shoes, my coupon organizer, cereal boxes and dog bowls. We have left you behind at Target, Dollywood, the pool and, most often, the sandbox. You have been sweated on, cried on, pulled off, cut to make you into a better shape, crumpled, stuck on other people, animals and walls and basically abused every day of your life.

Yet, you have remained constant.

A long time ago, (29 months ago, maybe?) I put a post on a Facebook that said, “Dear eyepatch, I hate you” and someone commented, “Don’t hate the eyepatch, he has work to do!” I was very irritated at this comment because I really did hate you, mostly because you had work to do. But, now, I realize she was right and, despite my anger toward you, you have definitely done your job so far.

So, here we are, all these months later and, despite constant abuse, you continue to do your job 12-14 hours a day, every single day. Don’t get me wrong, the time I spend with you is still not anywhere near fun or enjoyable, but it is tolerable and I feel like that is a nice place to land.

I know we have about 4 years left together and, while I cannot promise not to get mad at you, I do recognize your efforts.

Thanks for sticking around.