I needed glasses at an early age, but I didn’t know it. Nobody knew it. I learned to adapt to my handicap. Imagine how much fuller my life would have been if people could have seen the signs and known to get me help. In the meantime, I sat at the front of the class so I could see the board and I learned to recognize people by how they walked, rather than how their face looked.
I wonder how many other things I’m missing out on. I wonder what else I am faking at and I don’t even know it. I wonder how many of us are like that, adapting, creating work-arounds, when there is a simple way through it. We either think that our disability is normal because we don’t know it is a disability, or we think that we just have to suffer with it because nobody has told us otherwise. We either think we are normal and we aren’t, or we think we are unusual, and we aren’t.
If glasses won’t help, then people can give you a cane, or make signs bigger, or you can use a guide dog. But imagine, if you were born blind, and you didn’t know that there was such a thing as “sight”. Imagine how the world was for Helen Keller when her teacher was finally able to unlock her mind, to let her know about words. She started to become a human being that day.
I’m one of those people that sometimes needs someone to point out the obvious. Sometimes, something is so simple I don’t think of it. My head is in the clouds. I can see big things, but little things escape me. I wonder if there are glasses for that? Perhaps I’m farsighted in life, where I’m nearsighted otherwise.
I’m constantly looking for ways that I’m blind, that I’m missing out. I share them with my writing with the hope that others will get something from it. Perhaps they will say “Ah! So that is that I’m missing!” and their eyes will open too.