The trees dance, the airplanes fly and the sun brightens the earth that I live on. How beautiful life is...with water to use, food to consume and a place to sleep. As the days pass the memories fade of those that have once seen the trees dance, airplanes fly and the sun brighten the earth.
Music of old brings sparks of a past that I never dreamed of wanting. The thought of my mother who tried to be a mother. She slept many days, rocked in her bed and drowned out the pain with her music. She cast out the demons with prayers in her heart that brought thoughts of only living.
For her to sit under a tree, fly in a plane and feel the warmth of the sun that surround her. Seemed out of reach because of the sadness that brought a barrier to strong for her to break down.
I envision my mother a sweet one at that who tried to be loving and did not require anything back, beside a smile. My grandmother's words strike a cord of unbearable pain inside her.
To know that my mother lost out on a world filled with places to see, people to meet and dreams that never surfaced.
Now that she is rested peaceful near my father. I wish those days of old would come back so I could use the wisdom I have now to help her reach for the dreams that died with her.
Life is what you make of it. It's when you look for the good, even when it's not going in the direction you would of hoped for. Its when you take time to ponder on the happy moments that have slipped by.
Life is filled with trials, hopes, dreams, losses, and gains. It's filled with happy and sad moments. It's filled with struggles you never thought possible to over come.
I have been De-cluttering and as I go through boxes that have contained my special mementos I have realized my children would never want them. They would probably look at the objects and wonder why I ever kept them. So, as remove those items from the boxes I find they bring back the trials, dreams and memories that I have kept in my heart and have molded me into the person I am today.
I always took Grandpa Spencer’s advice seriously and accepted
his point of view, but once on the telephone he asked, “Oh Pamela, how can you
say you miss seeing out of two eyes when you have never seen anything with your
right eye?” While silence ringed, I squeezed my lips to hold back the answer.
Oh, how I wanted to yell. Instead I thought it best to say it under my breath.
“I know two eyes are better than one.”
I clutched the phone and took a deep breath, “Grandpa, please
understand. I do know what I’m missing.” I switched my weight from one foot to
the other and went on, “When people walk by me they disappear and we often bump
and when I turn to say, “Sorry,” I receive a look of, “what is wrong with you?”
Grandpa still tried to persuade me. “If you have never seen
out of your right eye, how can you miss vision you have never had and furthermore,
how can vision in two eyes be any different than having vision in one?”
Grandpa’s question of twenty years ago still haunts me. If he
only understood how I feel. I compare my blind eye to a butterfly’s broken
wing. Both the broken wing and broken eye limit living life to the fullest. The
butterfly can’t fly to get a complete picture of the scenery and I can’t see
the world in the way others see with two eyes. I was ashamed to reveal to
Grandpa that I was given the label amongst my schoolmates as the, “one eyed
freak,” because my blind eye moves as it chooses.
Never will I forget my elementary PE class we were divided
into two groups. I stood with my head down, feet close together. I knew the
team leaders wouldn’t want me on their team. With my eyesight the way it was, I
couldn’t gauge when to kick or hit the ball with a bat. All the kids knew I
couldn’t score a point for the team.
Now, as an adult, I still realize not having vision in two
eyes has limited my possibilities. Blind is the way God made me. I don’t want
anyone to feel sorry for me. I just want them to understand one eye is not a complete
picture of the world they see.
Is it wrong of me to feel that my glass is half empty? Is it
wrong for me to want vision in two eyes? Is it wrong for me to want to see the
world like everyone else?
If only we could see each other’s trials with the same eyes,
same view, we would see that each of us is faced with some type of emotional,
physical, social or spiritual limitation. We all desire to achieve our full
potential. At least I do.
So if you meet someone like me, know they want to see the
world just like you do with two eyes, because they also know, “two eyes are better than one.”
Have you ever had the what if syndrome come suddenly? I have, an it makes my head spin and heart beat faster. The what if syndrome of, if only had done this or done that. If only I had remembered. If only I had let my children understand the reasoning. If only I had...the list of what if's could go on.
As I think back to my childhood and the way life was and the way I interpreted I see hiccups of what if's. These what if's have brought frustration and I wonder why I worry about the what if's.
When I was a young girl around ten I never thought about the what if's. When I was dating I never thought about the what if's. When I was a young adult I never thought about the what if's.
I wish I could call my mother and ask her about her what if's. Did she or my father have them? They had too.
Didn't they?
As my favorite sayings goes that I wrote,
"Take time to smell the roses, cause when they are gone you will wish you had."
I remember one of my conversations with my grandfather Spencer and sharing with with him my favorite quote I wrote, taking time to smell the roses, after we had discussed having a get together. He seemed to shrugged off my quote, but he excepted the idea of having a get together.
How many times I wish I could go back in time and repeat choices I had made.
