So much of life is temporary, yet for the most part, we live as though everything is permanent. Jobs, relationships, homes and driver’s licences may not be forever, however, we think, we expect, that they are. Life itself is a temporary condition. We all know the truth of the matter, we should use that knowledge to spur us on to seize the day, but on the daily, we avoid this one absolute. We live like we’re not dying.
I recently renewed my handicap parking placard, putting the copy of the paperwork in the file cabinet. In the folder marked “HANDICAP PARKING”, I found the first of its kind, a temporary version issued at the suggestion of my primary care physician a few months after my vision loss. I fought the idea, I was not yet ready to consider that my full sight would not return. But safety in the face of an impending Pennsylvania winter prevailed, I agreed. When I discover that first temporary iteration in the file, I realize my visual impairment was one of the few things in my life that I did NOT anticipate would last forever. It is jarring, the 2013 date on the temporary permit. I am instantly transported back to that first year, when I wholeheartedly believed I would see properly any day now.
One temporary handicap parking placards, two permanent handicap parking placards and eleven years later, my lack of sight is permanent. I doggedly pursue any and all options for a cure, but I don’t live for a sight restoration. I just live.
I have changed a lot in the past decade, way beyond the anatomy of my optical parts. This is another big element that we don’t really think about: the temporariness of who we are at any given moment. People we meet leave a mark on us. Loss alters us. Joy makes us different. If you’re living a full life, the complete human experience, you will not be permanent. But whoever I am, I’ve got a good parking spot. The universe taketh away, the DMV giveth.
#sisterrain #alittlesightalotofheart #legallyblindwriter #temptopermposition
