My latest volunteer gig involves me assisting a visually impaired lady with various small duties. For the most part though, my main role seems to be attending to her loneliness.
If you’ve never had much experience with blind people then your conditioning will have you forget about their disability. During my first visit with her I saw that she was going to step on a bag on the floor so I told her to, “watch out.” It reminded me of the time I told a paraplegic in a wheelchair to “get up.” I’m sure one day I will tell a deaf-mute to “listen and be quiet.”
I’m not sure who is feeling more pity for whom. As she asks more personal questions she receives a compilation of somber answers. She cannot fathom a person with my background and current situation to be living a life not requiring professional intervention.
She seems quite persistent with trying to help me with my perceived personal shortcomings even with my assurances to her that I’m fine. My automatic response to questions is to be honest but it may be more polite and pragmatic to paint a mental picture that shows at least some roses. But then again, I may be giving her a new found purpose in life.
I’m reading “All the Lighr We Cannot See” by Andrew Doerr. Takes place during World War II in France and Germany. Two protagonists: one a blind girl, one a German boy. Quite a moving book.
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Coincidental timing. Sounds like it could be made into a decent movie.
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Maybe you are meant to help each other somehow…
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Who knows. I guess we’ll see what happens.
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You can have a symbiotic relationship with her, that’s what it seems like she’s trying to do.
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She would like more time with me but I don’t want her depending on me too much.
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She’s probably just really lonely.
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