When Ephraim poured milk all over the kitchen table instead of into his mug of coffee what did I think? That he was being sloppy? Or was it just that I was so desperate not to believe? When his food ended up all over the table why did I not realize that his eyesight had dimmed and faded?

But maybe we’re all like that stumbling through life like fools blind to the realities we don’t want to acknowledge to the things that will finally finally make us see.

My husband Ephraim always had poor vision — thick wiry glasses were a fixture from the time he was a young child. As a young adult he moved on to wearing contact lenses taking them out in the evening and once again putting on the heavy frames. Well everyone has their quirks and bad eyesight was my husband’s.

Although good eye care can be had in Britain’s National Health System (NHS) we continued to pay for private medical insurance. Each time they sent us a statement though I questioned why we were throwing away hard-earned money.

“Ridiculous” Ephraim would say when he handed me the latest bill. “We’ve been paying for this private insurance for years.” Only Hashem knew why we had been paying and how the coverage was soon to help us.

The next week I drove Ephraim to a routine appointment at the optician. The lengthy examination was routine for us and I sat waiting for our dismissal. When the optician flicked on the lights and invited me inside I knew an unfamiliar dread. We sat across the desk from him and my eyes strayed to the charts on the wall. The huge letters slowly decreasing in size until they became mere black dots on a white background.

“You have cataracts and the beginnings of glaucoma” the doctor told my husband. Surgery was required but there was a risk neatly swept under the carpet — “You might lose your eyesight. But nothing to worry about.” Nothing to worry about?

We returned home with eye drops to reduce the pressure in the eye and something to worry about.