[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments on Martia's sub

[Leonard Tuchyner]

Martia sub for Dec 22

 

I can’t find anything I would changein your writing. 

It is true there are some advantagesin being blind. 

But I’ve always been someone whowould rather see all the good and bad of the world. Some  of  itmakes me uncomfortable, 

but how else can I react to some ofthe ills. 

For that matter, 

how can I  respond fully with my heart  unless it is open to all the sensations. 

However, having a handicap  helps me to be empathetic to people 

I might otherwise be  calloused to. 

So, I guess it’s a tossup.

 

The Blessings of Blindness

 

I recall over-hearing a comment theophthalmologist made to my parents after he diagnosed me with a rare geneticeye disease. “She could be totally blind by age 60,” he said. I was only10-years-old at the time. I told myself not to worry – that I’d likely be deadbefore getting that old.

 

Now, I am 67, living proof that myeye doctor’s prediction indeed did come true. Trouble is, I’m not dead yet andprobably won’t be for decades. Mom and Dad lived into their 90s. If my doctoror parents were alive today, I’d tell them that blindness isn’t that bad afterall.

 

The blessings of blindness are many.Let me share some of the unexpected advantages of not seeing what’s in front ofmy nose.

 

When I stand in front of thebathroom mirror, brushing my teeth and combing my hair, I can’t see theemerging wrinkles and prevalence of grey hair. I can convince myself that Istill look as young as I feel.

 

 

I didn’t see the disappointment inmy daughter’s eyes when she dented her car – the first or the second time – butI did absorb her grateful hug when she thanked me for buying her a new car.

 

I can’t see the other driver flip myhusband the finger when we cut him off entering the highway, and I can’t seethe pedestrian hop out of the way when he turns right on red. I can, however,feel the warm kiss my spouse rewards me with when we arrive home safe andsound.

 

I can’t see the grass dying afterthree years of worsening drought conditions, nor can I see my guide dog’s poopthat I pick up off the lawn three times a day every day, but I can feel thewarmth and firmness as I bag it, reassuring me that my old guide’s health isstill A-OK.

 

I can’t see the scary scowl on theteenager’s face when we collide in line at the bank, but I can hear his kindapology when he realizes that I’m blind, and I can feel the assurance of hiselbow that guides me to the counter ahead of him.

 

I can’t see the images on televisionwhen the newscaster warns viewers “what you are about to see is disturbing,”and I can’t see the blood and guts spewing on the movie screen thanks tospecial effects magnifying the trauma. However, I can lose myself in theimagery of well-crafted words listening to an audio book or poem crafted by afellow writer.

 

When I close my eyes at night, Idon’t have to re-live the look on my father’s face as he lay dying, butwhenever I want, I fondly recall relishing his smile when he was pleased withmy report card, college graduation, and birth of my children.

 

I can’t see the headlines predictingclimate change, mass shootings, famine, earthquakes, and water shortages.Hopefully, I won’t see the end of the world coming. 




 
 
Leonard I. Tuchyner, Author
 
https://www.dldbooks.com/tuchyner/

 
  
 
 

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