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.