Last summer I was waiting for my daughter to board a greyhound bus. It was a holiday weekend and there was a long line of people hoping to board the bus. I amused myself by watching the travelers. During the wait I witnessed three blind people separately asking for assistance onto the bus. It made me pause and think about their lives and how they so willingly took on what appeared to me to be a very big challenge to me.
Last week I watched a live show about a dad that became blind as an adult. He talked about explaining blindness to his young daughter. He told her to close her eyes and he told her what she sees with her eyes closed is all that he ever sees. She was young and didn’t get the sense of permanence. One day when he was reaching for something (like a lobster as he described it) his five year old said, “Daddy’s blind.” Then went on to ask if she herself was blind and whether her mother was as well. He quickly told her he was blind, but they were not.
It gave me pause to wonder if it is better to be born blind than to know what is like to see and then lose that ability. It must be difficult not to live without regret for what one has lost. I count my blessings for all that I have.