I get asked all the time what the hardest thing about being blind is. People naturally assume it’s not being able to drive or read or… well, there are a million things that are really hard about being blind. Bruises. Isolation. Dependence. Those are some things about blindness that are really, really hard. But, then there’s having to constantly manage my frustration with being slow at tasks or even flat-out unable to do something without help.
Yep, it totally stinks.
When I wrote this blog, I was shoving dark chocolate in my face and gulping cinnamon tea because that is what I do when I need to pull myself together.
Why, you might ask, was I in my chocolate-eating, cinnamon tea-guzzling state? Why was I trying not to fall apart??
Well, sister, come into my kitchen and I’ll set the stage:
“Down Sparky!”
That’s what I wanted to say so badly to the woman in line in front of me who was having a five-star meltdown!
I wanted to, but, I did not! I was afraid she would turn around and hit me!
The sister was 2 seconds away from losing what was left of her cool.
When my son Clayton was 14, he took violin lessons. My husband, Phil, would take him, wait for the thirty minutes, and then the guys would drive through McDonald’s and arrive home with french fries in hand.
But, one Thursday, they were a whole hour late! I checked the time and started to get concerned. Then, I heard the garage door.
If there is one question that I have been asked over and over since I became blind, it is some version of this:
“Were you angry at God?” or, “How did you get over your anger toward God?”
I unloaded my frustrations to my friend Karen while talking on the phone the other day. Sometimes blindness makes me so tired that it just scrapes against the bottom of my soul, and it was one of those days.
I bet you know what I’m talking about; we’ve all had “one of those days.” You know, when you’re so overwhelmed that you can’t even put your jumbled feelings into words?
