Caught in Sight: Prologue

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She had never seen anything in focus. Blobs of amorphous colors and half imagined shapes- for what really are shapes? If you drew them on her palm were they any more real if she could never see them?

Faces didn’t match names only smells, touch, and sounds paired with colors and ever growing and changing smears of light.

Roses smelled like fresh dew and honey and felt like delicate cups of shaved velveteen.

Fresh laundry smelled like sun dried grass with lavender and felt like a hug.

She learned each thing by the smell of it, by the feel of it, and by the color of it. She never saw it really and her dreams would resemble a Monet painting magnified to far and too close.

She enjoyed all the things the world had to offer and she felt, heard, touched and smelled her way though what the world had to offer her.

She used a cane to tap, tap, tap out which way was what and often took advantage of her parent’s encouraging, but demanding, need for her to be independent, self sufficent and able bodied (but alas not able sighted!).

She had taken music lessons on the piano, at first by ear and then using the complex brail system favored by those of her circumstance. Thick scores were made thicker to accommodate the symbols necessary for her to literally feel the music.

She took self defense courses where no matter which way she was grabbed she could twist and contort without usually loosing her cane. People often thought she was blind as in there was absolute darkness in her sight, but like people, there are different types. She caught many a partner off guard when she was able to detect larger movements before she was grabbed.

Her parents encouraged play dates and outings to museums, children science centers and aquariums- all places that had hands on components where she could touch and touching was encouraged. She also enjoyed concerts (though outdoor venues were the best for the simple reason of being able to roll in the grass).

She grew up in the best possible way, not too coddled, not given too much or too little and she was loved.

And while that’s is all well and good, I’m afraid that’s the trouble with things, no matter how prepared someone can be made… it can be all for naught.

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