I have known four blind persons in my life.
Mike Hanna, an attorney in Raytown, practices law and sits on a municipal bench. Joshua, whom my second husband befriended and who does some intricate computer work, married and moved to Columbia for a marvelous job shortly after having his unsighted eyes removed. A friend’s son, Benjamin, conquered independent living, college and law school. And what can I say about Derek Bakeberg-Baker? Every time I talk with Derek, I actually forget he cannot see. His perception and quickness just overwhelm any thought that he might be disabled. I admire all of them.
As my eyesight fades and the navigable day narrows to a ten-hour window, I find myself hoping that my serenity will keep pace with the fading of my eyesight. Should I reach the point where I cannot see before I reach the point where my composure controls my behavior, I will never rise to the grace and poise of these four people. As shadows creep into the edges of my world, tendril upon tendril, I huddle in the middle of a shrinking circle of light thinking, Surely I can do as well as they have.
Another quest: To find the light within myself that can overcome the dark.