Prior to my vision loss, I was an avid reader. One hundred-books-a-year kind of a reader. I read on planes, in bed, on the beach and in the tub. It was nothing to read five or six books on a long weekend vacation.
I have tried audiobooks. Not for me. As much as I missed books, I just couldn’t embrace having a voice other than my own telling me a story.
Last week I received a piece of equipment that enables me to enlarge and change the color of text, enabling me to read. And last night I read 150 pages of a book written by a favorite author. My first book in 30 months.
I tend to minimize any progress or accomplishments because I compare EVERYTHING to how I was before I lost my sight. I have to remind myself that for a few weeks, I was completely blind. And in comparison to those terrifying days, I have come so very far.
Yes, reading using this machine is different and I will have to master this new technique. My reading will now be in one place. But last night, in my mind, I was in New York City, immersed in the world of the characters.
I will not allow myself to discount this milestone.
Opening the hard cover of that book was like opening a door that has been closed to me for 2 1/2 years.
How can that be anything but amazing?