I sometimes selfishly envy people who loose their sight gradually. How nice it would be to know for months or years that you were destined for blindness. You could prepare yourself and get your life in order. Perhaps you would take time to learn the keyboard while your eyes could still see the keys. Maybe you would even learn the basics of some screen reading software. You could certainly use the time to clear your home and kitchen of all the little items and obstacles that you were sure to find a problem with when your world went black. You could lovingly bid farewell to the light. You could say goodbye with dignity.
I am sure that you would take some time to just sit and look at everything and do your best to burn the images in your mind. How happy it makes you to see a sunset over the ocean. How calming it can be to see the wind blowing through the leaves and branches of an old tree. The awe you would get from standing at the base of a massive mountain and just staring. Mostly for me would be the calm and content I would get from seeing a loved one watching me when they did not know I would look. Their smile and expression of joy when I caught them out.
I am sure that a person loosing their sight slowly never thinks to stop and appreciate their surroundings as they should. Maybe it is simple denial. Maybe it is to hard to accept. Maybe it just does not occur until it is to late.
I never had the time. My light turned to dark in a couple days. I could not and still cannot believe that this is now my reality. Hope is a funny and difficult thing to contemplate. Why must I always wish for something that will probably never be. Is it not better to waste your fantasies on what could perhaps really be?
I sometimes feel that the road I am on is like an elevated freeway. Separated from the roads around me. There is another elevated lane to my left and one to my right. The road I am on is the road of blindness. It is a rough track with many potholes and tar that is worn and torn with years of heavy wear. The asphalt is stripped down to sand in places and raised up like tram tracks in others. It is a bad road and I sometimes have no idea how my body will manage to travel along the route without shattering into a million pieces.
The roads to my sides are in such great condition. There is no way to get over and follow one of them though. They are the paths of either technological breakthroughs in curing my blindness or the path of future medical breakthroughs. Both would be preferred. There is simply no bridge linking my route to them.
So, here I stand on the only road and choice I have. The path of blindness.
The only things that keep me moving is the hope that either the track will become easier to traverse if I move further along, or perhaps a bridge linking me to a side route will appear.
I decide, as hard as it is to accept, that I must just keep moving. It is impossible to give up hope.
After all, even if you are on the right track, if you just stand there you will eventually get run over.