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

2017 05 24: Journal Post Page 7 May 24, 2017

Filed under: Devotion,Essay,Faith,Family,Life,Perception,Personal Challenge,Writing — DP Lyons @ 8:29 am

And yet another Wednesday comes screaming around the bend. Good morning everyone, and welcome back to my page a day journal blitz.

Hopes can build, and dreams can dash away at a moments notice. What we do with these moments in our time is key to what, or who we become. Dreams and hopes are a blessing during those troubling times. They provide comfort to a searching soul, optimism to a dampened heart and company to the lonely spirits.

I experienced such an impact from dreams and hopes in those trying days of 2010, and through it all, the opportunities that were handed to me greatly outweighed anything and everything.

This is page 7 taken from my journal. Written in spring 2011, the emotions were flowing as I wrote, and the experience was priceless.

I hope you all have a great Wednesday, and thanks for stopping by.


Page 7

The next few weeks were all but a blur as I fumbled my way around my new sightless land. I guess that in the back of my mind I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. Not in the least. This fight would continue inside of me for some time to come. I have always been stubborn in my own right, and this was no exception. I didn’t like to lose control. I didn’t like to lose control of anything in my life, and this was pissing me off. I had no control over this.

I had dealt with giving up control of certain things in my life. I had learned how to let go, and let god with Alcoholics Anonymous. I had all of the tools stored away in my tool box, but I was having a hard time remembering how to open the damn box.

I did a lot of praying the next few days, weeks, months, and continue to talk to God on a regular basis. He and I have somewhat come to an agreement. I will let go, and He will guide me. Pretty simple, pretty safe, pretty uncomplicated. That’s what I needed back in those first few days and weeks, and it is what I need these days.

I’m not sure if it was the next week, or shortly after that, when I first heard the voice of a brand new guardian angel. Leona McKenna-Shea, who would become my VR Counselor from The Division of The Blind in Augusta. She called me up on the phone after talking with my folks in Florida. My dad had been relentless those first few days and weeks after my series of strokes. He had been on the phone with whomever he could in regards to me and my condition. Condition. Leona hates that term. Me too.

Dad had been in contact with Leona and she assured him that I would be ok. She knew what I was going through, and what I would go through. She was blind herself these past 13 years. She knew first hand what I was going through, and she had a plan. Boy did she ever have a plan.

I got a phone call from her one day, and somehow I could sense a calming sensation from her voice. It was immediately soothing to me, and made me feel as though I would be ok now that she was in my corner. She was definitely in my corner, to say the least.

I know and am quite aware that my destiny was in my hands, and that my actions determined my future. How I handled filling up the pages of my blank book was entirely up to me. I also know however that with her influence in the upcoming months, I would not be where I am today if not for her. No where even remotely close. She saw something in me that assured her that I had drive and determination to regain my life. Regain parts of my old life, and discover my new life.

The first day I met her I instantly was drawn to her personality. It was one of pure positive energy and influence. We talked and as she asked questions about me I felt so calm and relaxed. It was almost as if I had known her my whole life. I know what a corny cliché that is, but it is true.

She kept assuring me that I would be just fine, and that I shouldn’t worry about the particulars. There was only one thing I could control, and that was my attitude and determination.

She knew how I felt. She knew what I was worried about. She knew how dark and dreary my future seemed to me. She knew of the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t go away. She knew all of it. She had been through it, and had come out the other side better than before. She made me feel as though I would do the same. She knew, and that was all I needed to know.

I got the sense after she left that Lynne felt the same way, and I was glad as hell.

The next few weeks, again, were a blur of emotions. Some days I felt as though I was on the edge, measuring for the jump. Other days I was just a limp rag with no hope of even getting out of my own way. It was hard. It was hard as hell, and I don’t know how I got through many of those days. I was a wreck, and I felt as though I was pulling my wife down with me.

I can’t even imagine what she was thinking those first few weeks and months. Half of her foundation, our foundation, had crumbled right before her eyes. It must have been devastating for her to say the least. I wanted to be able to continue to remain strong for her, but how in the hell could I? I felt as though this would surely be my demise. I felt that way a lot of the time. Some days I was ok. I seemed to be able to get through the day with relatively no problems. Unfortunately, there were those other days. Those were the longest of the days. Those were the days that seemed to never end. Those were the days when I thank God that I had Lynne with me. She helped me back up. She was my rock. She has always been. Through our relationship, there have been too many days that I wasn’t aware of this. Too many days indeed.

To be continued…