Blind Eye

Blind Eye

Posted under Guest Blogger, Living With Low Vision

Turning a blind eye. Figuratively. Literally.

Sitting on my bed in my darkened room twelve years ago I noticed that my right eye seemed funny. Like a black lace tablecloth had been placed in front of my face. Central scotomas I would find out later. Disintegrating retinas. Then like a curtain that moves right to left, the black lace tablecloth now covers the left eye also. And just like that it is gone. My vision.

What I had enjoyed for forty five years was gone in six months.

Now I turn a blind eye.

While the vision in my eyes decreased, my spiritual eyes saw so much more.

I could now turn a blind eye to people who were unkind. Not wanting to see their lack of consideration but instead believing them good people deep, deep down.

I turn a blind eye to the recognition I will never see my loved ones faces again. The memory seared in my brain is the sustaining force.

I turn a blind eye to the stack of books that will go unopened and whose print now sits atop the page never to get smudged off by abuse as I ravish the contents to get at the meat of its core.

I turn a blind eye to the prejudices that will now follow me like a hungry pack of dogs. Chasing and nipping, hurrying me on and afraid to stop. Forced to walk faster than comfortable. Almost need to run to get away. Prejudice is an evil pursuer. It multiplies as it wraps around others sometimes merely by a brief contact. Leaving its mark and moving on to encase another. So like a tsunami of prejudice rushing at me, I run away.

I turn a blind eye to the feelings of usefulness that somehow have started to elude me. I can do it my mind says and then someone else says I can not.

Sit down they yell. I stand firm. Go hide they leer. I shrink but do not leave.

My world is different. When I am doing something that comes easy, it is also easy to forget. When I am trying to do something that should come easy and I cannot, it is hard to forget that I will no longer do those things again.

The water leaks from my eyes unashamedly as life without vision is scary. I try to forget all the things I can no longer do. I try to remember all the new things I can now do. I try to reconcile the two things and come up with a less than balanced scale.

In the end I turn blind eyes at life and see what I can share, and not let people keep pointing out what I cannot.

My desire is to keep doing the things I can and many more left unexplored. I want to be a good witness to the spirit of turning a blind eye and seeing only light.

There is nothing I regret about this journey and everyday is one more good opportunity to share and educate. If someone offered me a pill that would restore my sight I would politely decline. What fun would that be? Life is a challenge, and I am up for it.

Blessings, Denise