Letter to Mother

Letter to Mother.


Dear Mother, June 11th 1948

Hello mother. Upon my last letter I suppose you have heard that I have lost my sight, and the doctors have determined that I will never see again. It is just as well. I figure I can wallow around this world feeling a sense of self pity or bitterness toward the world, but I have realized that that will do me no good. Instead, it seems that my other senses have come to life, and the world seems different somehow. All my life, mother, I have heard the birds sing, but oddly I never really heard them sing. The sound of their song always seemed to be back ground noise something that you heard but did not notice, but now that I have to rely on my hearing the chirping is exponentially more beautiful, and I think I can honestly say I can hear them all day long and not fret a bit. It is almost like I am hearing for the first time, for the first time I am hearing the world around me.
Also, I started a garden in the front yard and it is filled with roses and honey suckle, and mother I have realized I have never really stopped to enjoy the soft fragrance of flowers before. Oh losing my sight seems like a joy almost. I can smell the flowers and hear the birds now! The songs and smells seem so much more alive then they did before, and it is such a joy!
What is better news my dear Mother is I have finally met a boy that I believe may be the person I want to spend my life with. I cannot see his face and draw on all his physical imperfections so in a way I feel free; free from the superficiality of relying on a persons outer beauty, and I am lucky to be able to rely on inner beauty. I hear his voice, the deep husky tones, the soft southern draw, and oh mother he is soo amazing. What’s best is he doesn’t mind a bit that I am blind, or get annoyed when I bump into something. He is ever so patient and ever so kind about my inability to be self sufficient. He really is a sweet man and his heart is so kind, I can almost hear it in his voice. My favorite characteristic about his is his scent. I know that may sound odd but I have to use what senses I have, and this has to be my favorite. He smells of clean linen and rich soap and to tell you the truth I can’t get enough of it, as odd as it may seem.
Other than my new founded beau and senses I am happy to tell you I have a hired a nurse to help me learn new ways to get around. Her name is Etta, and she is a tough broad, but very kind at the same time. She has arranged my home in such a way I can learn how to get around without her. 13 steps to the kitchen, 5 steps to the sink and, from the living room, 15 steps to the bathroom; she taught me that and it only took a week! I love Etta, it seems that she is my only companion through this change, but it is just as well. When I first met Dear Etta she was stern with me. She told me that she would show me something once and I would have to figure it out on my own after that; that was the best way for her to teach me. She has taught me to be more self sufficient and I don’t need her as much as I used to. When I would cry or moan that I could not take care of myself she would scold me like a child, but she knew it was for the best and mother she was right. The only time I need her is when we go for our afternoon walk. I can hear the cars but I cannot see road signs and I can’t tell directions, so I need her to lead me. But the good news is down at the hospital they train dogs to help people, can you believe it! A dog will be helping me day to day, with seeing and keeping me from running into things. Who would have though mans best friend would also be our best caregivers.
In all mother, I am permanently blind but the world seems more beautiful somehow. Oh what it is like not to rely on the outer appearance of people and to see who they really and truly are, not to see the cruelty of the world but pay attention to all the little things that we have taken for granted for so long. I know when the world looks at me they feel nothing but pity for my circumstances, but, to tell you the truth, I feel sorry for them. They cannot feel the sun, smell the rich grass, and hear the laughter of brooks and the deep song of the sea, so I feel sorry for them. Oh I don’t hate this life so much anymore, as a matter of fact, I think I am the lucky one. How Lucky I am to see the world with blind eyes. I wish you could hear it and feel it as I do, it is such a beautiful thing.
But I have rambled on enough. I hope this letter finds you well and I miss you and love you so!

Love always and forever,
Donna