Blind Perspective - Volume 3

by Michael Tapia, longtime member of Sacred Path

[The following article is the third in a chronology of Michael's progressive loss of his eyesight. They form a remarkable story of courage and an indomitable will to live.]

It’s been ten days since I awoke temporarily blind. My sister Ingrid is visiting with my six-year-old nephew Alexander. Ingrid has been visiting every day since I lost my eyesight. Today she’s making lunch.

“Hey, Alex, let’s go downstairs and water my garden!”

“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Ingrid asks.

“Sure! I’ve had lots of practice.”

I take Alex’s little hand and we slowly climb down the stairs. I hold tight to the banister and we finally reach the landing.

“See the hose, Alex? Please take me to it.” I say.

“Okay, Uncle Michael.”

He hands me the hose and I ask him to point it at my succulent garden. It sits right outside my bedroom window where I planted my jasmine last spring. I also raised the purple bougainvillea on a trellis to frame the window.

“Uncle Michael, how did you go blind?” he wants to know.

“It was from medication I took,” I reply.

“Will you be blind forever?”

“No, Alex. I’m starting to see shadows now and my eyesight should return soon.”

“Uncle Michael, is it scary to be blind?”

“At first it was, but my friends kept me company.”

I could smell the dampness of the earth as the soil became well drenched, as if by a summer rain.

“Great job, Alex. You’ve been an excellent helper. Please turn off the water.”

I roll up the hose and dry my hands, then we head back up the stairs. Alex’s little hand is firmly in mine as he guides me like he was a grownup. We come back to the kitchen, where Ingrid has been keeping close watch on both of us.

“Wow, you guys were great out there! How did you know where everything was?” she asked, amazed.
“Alex was the perfect guide. Ingrid, it’s not rocket science; we’re creatures of habit. I visualize my intention and then cautiously perform my act.”

“So,” Ingrid says, “you visualize and then act.”

“Exactly!
“You’ve been so much help, Sis.” I give her a big hug and kiss her on the cheek. Then I give Alex a big hug and thank him.

“Bye, Uncle Michael. Love you,” he says shyly, and they’re off.

My cats, Zacky and Momma Girl, come out of hiding; they’re terrified of children. We climb the kitchen stairs. I trail the wall to the bookshelves, then move through the French doors to the living room and collapse on my favorite chair. I look out the window, and as I blink I begin to see movement on the telephone wire outside. I blink again, and I think I begin to see two shadows on the wire. I blink again and there’s nothing. I sit anxiously, Momma Girl on my lap. I think I can see the trace of her body. I gently stroke Momma Girl’s head and whisper, “Soon, little one, my vision will return.”