I recently got together with an old colleague I had not seen in over fifteen years. She was aware of my vision loss as she’s in touch with a mutual friend. We had a great time catching up and at the end of the night, in her ultra-direct manner, she asked, “What do you miss the most?” My answer shocked me and a few weeks later I am still surprised; I could not think of even one thing to say.
Less than five minutes later, I spewed my list of what I can no longer do, starting with driving. But the fact that I had to think about it has left me with a bigger question: Why?
I should mention that tequila had been consumed. I was tired. A lot of ground had been covered and I came to find that I was not the only one who had had some very difficult years. The emotion and processing of that, as well as the frequent laughs, had left me exhausted. And yet it is inconceivable to me that I was not able to launch into the inventory of all that I have lost.
I have been working for months on a project that involves me telling my story using a different platform than this site, and while preparing this endeavor, I am revisiting my before and after everyday, all day, which makes my frozen response all the more perplexing. Could it be, like Elsa in the movie Frozen, I’ve let it go? It seems so unlikely, given the fact that my work forces me to constantly look back as much as ahead and at right now. But maybe time, and let’s not forget, therapy, have finally distanced the off-the-clock me from all that I miss.
If I could go back to that moment when she asked the question, my immediate reply would be, “You”. It has nothing to do with my sight but it would be true. It had been too long and we both have been through so much. Each of us has experienced great loss but we are still able to laugh, share and love. No license required.
