Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2015 11 09 Left Foot Forward November 9, 2015

Some days you’re the person, and some days you’re the mobility cane. Some days your arm stops at your hand, and some days it extends all the way down to the rolling marshmallow tip of that same mobility cane. Some days the world comes to you, and some days you have to go to the world.

Lately, it seems as though I’m having to go to the world. Lately, everything seems to be two inches to the right. Lately, I’m about as blind as you can be, and being blind is the last thing I want to be.

I was down in sunny Florida with family a few weeks back. It was the first time I had seen my little brother in 9 years, as well as the first time since losing my vision back in 2010, and although I couldn’t see his face, when he spoke, I was flooded with memories of him, his smile, his eyes, his nose, his mouth and chin and ears, and I never actually felt sad that I couldn’t see him, because I felt as though I could. When he saw me, he came up to me and hugged me, but he didn’t let go, and neither did I. I felt closer to him at that moment than I ever had, and it was pure medicine.

Thinking back, a smile a mile wide just crept across my face.

I’ve often talked about how my other senses jumped up a couple notches since losing sight. There’s a lot more going on than just those heightened senses though. There’s an inner awareness that I can’t put a finger on. I don’t really know why, but I get these emotional waves crashing through me that fill every nook and cranny of my being. From the simplest things, to the more complex, when these moments grab hold of me, there ain’t nothing I can do except try to remember to breathe.

My wife and I were walking down an aisle at a grocery store a few days ago, and from a couple rows over, I heard a young child’s boisterous voice booming out to her mother. This little person probably couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4, and she had no idea just how precious she was, or he was. Anyway, as has happened to me a few times, when I heard this amazingly innocent tone, another one of those emotional swells rose up through me, and I couldn’t breathe, or swallow. It was wonderful. A true gift of the soul, and as I grabbed hold of the shopping cart, I shook my head and just tried to enjoy the moment, for what a moment it was.

I can tell you that my emotions have gone through quite a bit these past five years. I have felt grief beyond belief, but I have also felt a remarkable joy from time to time that perhaps I had felt before, but never paid mind to it as I do these days. What I can’t see, I can surely feel, and what my eyes don’t gaze upon, my heart gathers in and observes as never before.

When I was in Florida, our family clan got up one morning and set off for our daily attempt at taking on the day. I did my usual morning get ready stuff, which ended by putting on my favorite chocolate sneakers.

Thanks D. I love ya!

Anyway, later on that afternoon as we arrived back to my sister’s home, one of my siblings walked up to me and asked me if I knew I had my sneakers on the wrong feet.

Of course I didn’t, and of course I felt like a blind billy goat on a mission to confuse the enemy, which I more than likely did.

The room opened up in a round of laughter that lifted my spirits up past my overflowing humility.

Right foot, left, or something like that.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve gone more than five years without vision. It’s hard to think of how many miles I have walked on the moon. It’s hard to imagine how many words I’ve typed since those summer months of 2010.

I’m fortunate for having been afforded the things that have graced my life these past five years. I’m blessed for the people I’ve met, but mostly, I’m grateful for the inspiration that’s helped me to find the strength to keep sweeping my cane back and forth. Moving forward. It has a nice ring to it, don’tcha think?

Without the determination and motivation that I hear within the voices, my chocolate sneakers wouldn’t have many places to go. There’s only one direction that ever proves beneficial, and that’s forward. Not backwards, just forward.

Can you imagine a blind goat like me trying to walk backwards with a mobility cane?

Hmm?

Advertisements
 

8 Responses to “2015 11 09 Left Foot Forward”

  1. alice13zoe Says:

    Deon–What a remarkable post! You must collect all of your pieces about living with vision loss and publish them in a book! I know that such a book would be of enormous help to other adults who are experiencing new vision loss, their significant others, and blindness professionals. How you do capture the moments with depth and touches of humor! Keep stepping forward with a smile! Alice

    • DP Lyons Says:

      Oh Alice. It’s quite humbling to have such amazing people gracing this blog with comments like this. Thanks, and keep on writing. I need the inspiration. dp

  2. carol lyons Says:

    i just loved it and as always it left me with a warm feeling about you, and your future………..mom xxxxxx

  3. Rhonda Says:

    What a gift you have Deon, I always feel better after I read you blog. You’ve gained so much with the loss of your vision, that just shows you what you’re made of! I’ve found that after going thru extremely difficult times in my life has shaped me in ways that I appreciate. So maybe what we lost wasn’t as valuable as what we gained!

    • DP Lyons Says:

      Hi Rhonda. I think you hit it right on the head. We have to look hard sometimes before we can see the gains in our lives. Thanks for the note and God bless. dp

  4. Arthur w Hoskins Says:

    Blind billy goat with chocolate sneakers,say no more. Think about that >>>>>damn what an image.

  5. Carolyn Bebee Says:

    Hi Deon, not only a book for folks losing vision but for teachers too. You capture the deepest if feelings, losses and gains in a way no other one has or can. I smile as somehow you and your cane could go backwards yet forward! Best, Deon


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s