Then and Now

Then:

I did not just go a close distance to the little red school house.  Instead, I went one hundred miles away to school in a red brick building with columns out front.  The North Carolina School for the Blind was a beautiful campus in 1950.  Raleigh, North Carolina was a big town for such a little girl.  We have both grown now, but at times I still feel lost and small in Raleigh’s population of 423,179.

The building I called home at school had a porch that ran all the way across the front and seemed as long as a city block to a child.  In the fall of 1950, that porch was filled with little blind girls, lost, afraid, and wondering what in the world had happened, and where were their mommies. 

As I lived on the school campus, I soon noticed some differences between home and school.  At home I slept on a feather bed under quilts to keep warm; at school I slept on a mattress between cold sheets.  Mama let me wear overalls and climb trees; My housemother and teachers made me wear dresses and play games.  Lexington had one radio station; Raleigh had three.  When at home I played hymns and country songs on the piano; at school I played Bach, Mozart and Beethoven.  In the country I ate pinto beans and “arsh taders”; in school we ate lima beans with boiled potatoes.

Now:

Today I sleep on a comfortable mattress covered with soft sheets.  Sometimes I still play games with friends, but seldom wear dresses.  I play hymns and some older country songs on the piano but love listening to Bach, Mozart and Beethoven.    Lexington has at least three local radio stations now; I have no idea how many there are in Raleigh.

When I go to Lexington and am fixing to leave I say:  “It’s time to go home.”  When I am in Raleigh and thinking of seeing Mama I say “It’s time to go home.”   Thus, my life’s journey has begun.

From the little children at church in Lexington who whispered:  “She’s blind,” to what I call my little bungalow where my older neighbors tell the new ones moving in: “She’s blind.”

People who know me well honor me by forgetting that fact altogether most of the time, just hoping they remember should I start to walk off the side of a mountain.      

Throwback Thursday from Journal

HomeSick

 

I am very proud of my son, Kevin, who is a computer guru and works at SAS Institute.   

This is an email correspondence we shared years ago which I copied off into paragraph form to keep.

 

From my son on November 17, 2004

>>> "Kevin DeBruhl" <kdebruhl@ … November 17, 2004

> “Hey 'Rents,

> 

> That's lang for Parents, of course!  Anyway, Tonya says I'm supposed to

> let you both know every time I sneeze, so here it is.  I'm home again

> with a cold.  Stopped up and coughing today.  Not much to report.  So

> when she asks have I told you.... I have.”

> 

 

My answer November 17, 2004

>”Did you sneeze more than once?  Is your fever above 100?  Did you cough too?  Does your tummy hurt?  Do you have a headache, body aches, new lumps or bumps?  Are you able to "read?"  Are you "reading" too much?  Is your nose running?  Your teeth chattering?  your throat scratchy?  Are your eyes red instead of blue?  Your tongue blue instead of pink? 

> 

If you have ALL of the above, go to the Emergency Room; by the time they see you,  you will be well.>

 

Otherwise, take two or more Tylenol and know you are loved and call me if neither works.”>

 

Answer from Kevin November 17, 2004

“I want some of whatever YOU'RE taking!!!”

 

In the Beginning

One day I am going to Google “how many states in the United States have a town called Lexington”.  Lots of  people do not realize that there is one in North Carolina, but many who have traveled Interstate 85 or Highway #64 may wonder about the smell from barbecue cooking outdoors for which the town is most famous.
 
Lexington is located about 56 miles northeast of Charlotte, NC, 21 miles north of Winston-Salem, NC, or 36 miles southwest  of Greensboro, NC.  
 
When I was a child Lexington had a hosiery mill, a cotton mill, large furniture factories, and the house we lived in.
 
I remember  …


When linoleum was just an area rug laid on the unfinished wooden floor and we loved it! 

Earmuffs for when it was cold or your ears hurt … that never worked for either.

The smell of gum in Mama’s purse.

Riding on Daddy’s shoulders.

The way my brother Larry’s neck felt after he got a new haircut.

The way my heart felt when he would play with me.

Baby bottles that were really glass and had canned milk formula inside.

Easter egg nests made in the grass …that the grandma Easter bunny always found.

Really picking out the Christmas tree in the woods and dragging it home.

Exactly the way a chicken’s legs  feel when it is alive.

The clothes being frozen on the line.

Cars as slow as snails

And puppy dog tails.

Thinking mud puddles were swimming pools.

Winter coats that weighed as much as I did.

Thinking since a nickel was heavier it was worth more than a dime.

The way only Mammaw’s cake batter tasted when getting to lick the bowl.

Playing snake in the gully with a real gully and sometimes a real snake.

Hearing the little children at church whispering:  “She’s blind.”

Going away to school.

Throwback Thursday from Journal

February 12, 2001 11:15 AM

 

It’s an icy day in Raleigh, NC.  The grandkids are here because school is canceled.  Two TV’s are on different channels, but nobody is watching either one. One kid is playing store, one kid is making a ten and the other one is not playing at all.  So far I have fixed cereal, drinks, soup, noodles, ice cream—and now they want lunch.  The kid who was not playing at all is now jumping off the back of the couch. 

 

1:35 PM

We have assembled all the pots and pans and wooden spoons for our band.  I’m the maestro.  I’m teaching them rhythm and they are teaching me how to make a joyful noise. 

 

8:15 PM

The  drums are quiet except for the sounds they left in these walls.  Those sounds live alongside all the baby talk, temper tantrums, lullabies and silly games we have planted there. 

Love lives forever.

Where’s the Elevator

It was Vivi’s and my very first solo trip to the mall.  While the trainer was here we had learned several important places, where the elevator was, where the food court and Chic Filet was, a few department stores and the bathroom.  With a happy dog in hand and a confident handler, off we went.  We walked impressively through the courtyard and into the mall, Vivi stopping at the handles of each door for me to open to go inside.  I gave her the command for forward, and then right/right  which means for her to check out the next place to turn right and do so.  She did.  Again I knew in about 10 steps to give the right/right command again, which she did.  I then gave her the over left command and told her to “find the elevator”  which should have taken us to the elevator; it didn’t.  I had given that command too soon.    We wound up in a dark cove.  So, I was going to give the command of right about and then forward,  but a lady caught me by the arm in a hard grip and said:  “You were almost at the elevator, let me help you.” 

 

“Thank you so much, but I need us to be able to find it so we will know exactly where it is every time,” I said.  She reluctantly let go of my arm.  Vivi and I went back to the doors out of the mall and started all over.  This time we ended up in the food court.  On the next try, back to the food court with a very happy wagging tail.  ON the next try another wagging tail in the food court with a dog hoping to vacuum all the crumbs off the floor.  Back to the doors out of the mall we went.  Giving the correct commands, Vivi took me to the elevator five times in a row.  The next time we got to the elevator I informed Vivi that I really wanted to go to the food court. 

 

Actually I took the elevator up and then back down again before we went on to the food.  I had taught her to find Chic-FilA which she did, only, to my dismay, I learned they don’t serve breakfast at that mall at Chic-filA.  I did search my memory and recalled the trainer taking me around the food court venues so Vivi and I traveled down the row until I heard voices.  Yea!  McDonald’s!

 

I must add that Vivi found the elevator from there, Belks upstairs, Dillards, Barnes and Noble, and the upstairs elevator when we were ready to go home.  I had two shopping bags that needed a weight lifter to carry, a purse as big as half of Texas, with Vivi’s leash and harness in my other hand.  It took some creative acrobatics to push the button down.    I do not know what possessed me to stop at Starbucks.  Now I had the bags, the purse, the dog and coffee.  Slowly, which is not Vivi’s speed at all, we backed out the doors onto the courtyard again, where Vivi found us a table with empty chairs.  After finishing my coffee and Vivi finding the trashcan, I decided one more time to “find the elevator.”   Bingo!  She’s got it now and I won’t have to give her as many commands to do it next time. 

It was a very successful trip although I came home as tired as midnight and Vivi wanted to play fetch. 

One Step Back

I do not wish to bombard anyone with superfluous information, yet this time I am going to do it anyway. Simply so that you can truly  accept my blog for the reasons I am presenting one, especially since blindness will truly be explored in real time situations in life. 

 

I am aware that there is much literature available about the world of the blind.  I have looked up statistics on the internet revealing that according to the National Federation for the Blind there are about 1.3 million people in the U.S. who are legally blind, and  it is estimated that as many as 10 million Americans are blind or visually impaired. 
 
Sometimes it seems as though there are as many perceptions about blindness as there are people who are blind, yet we all seem to come together in certain areas of understanding.  These uniting factors cause many things such as Braille, canes, computers with screen readers, guide dogs, and even smart phones with special programs to come into being.  There are organizations which work to change laws to help the blind and disabled everywhere, and others which educate, enlighten, provide transportation, recreation, and environmental mobility. 

 

With  this vast number of people, you may feel like mine is just some kind of voice crying out in the wilderness.  However, neither am I crying, nor do I consider blindness a wilderness.  I do, however, highly esteem people such as President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Ludwig Beethoven, and Helen Keller as well as many others who have overcome much adversity and contributed greatly to society.  These people have inspired many. 

 

My hope is to perhaps inspire a few, to ease others into a place of understanding, but mostly perhaps,  help even one person find a reason to keep on walking.  I am not super anything, but I have learned not to take myself too seriously, to laugh when the little boy down the street says:  “You can’t see so purdy good can you?” or when I speak to someone who is actually talking on a cell phone.     

There's a Blind Lady on the Block

 

Welcome to the houses I have lived in, and some I didn’t.  We will visit them all as we go but right now, come on in.  My present little home is a 1100 square feet townhouse where I live with my two-year-old (if it’s here can I eat it?) yellow Labrador present guide dog.

 

There was a time when you could have recognized my house by all the mail on my front porch.  You see, the mailboxes are down the street and with all the bulk of unwanted excess mail we get these days often residents unknowingly used to leave a piece or two on the ground.  Sooner or later, all these missed mails made their way to my door by other well-meaning neighbors who saw it on the ground and just assumed automatically that surely it was the blind lady on the block who must have dropped them. 

   

The day I moved in, there were two one-year-old grandchildren plus a four-year-old one in tow.  It was a hot day so I ran water in the little wading pool and listened to happy sounds of water splashing and children’s squeals.  That was before my elderly neighbor tapped me on the shoulder to hand me a book of homeowners do’s and don’ts, mostly don’ts. 

 

“Now you need to keep those toys picked up out of the yard,” she told me, "because they don’t tell you when they plan to mow.”

 

“Okay," I said.  “I’ll listen for them and if I hear them I’ll run out and be sure they are picked up.”

 

“Oh no you can’t do it that way,” she told me.  “You see sometimes they mow two or three times a week.”

 

I have now lived here over eighteen years and I believe what she meant to say was that sometimes they actually mow two times every three weeks, just haven’t figured it out yet, but no worries as the grandchildren are grown now.  

 

The neighbors are truly good to me.  Just last Saturday morning I had planned to sleep late when my doorbell rang at 7 AM.

 

“Honey, your cab is here,” a lady said.

 

“But I didn’t call one,” I answered. 

 

I smiled as I drank my first cup of coffee and wondered how long I would be thought of as the blind lady on the block.

 

My patio is larger than most of the others.  You see it was small and I wanted a fence, not to keep my neighbors out but to keep the children in.  So I took bids for the job, then threw them all away and hired a young man named Tom, who was just out of jail. 

 

Brittany, my oldest grandchild, then age four, swung on the fence posts Tom set into the cement singing “Jesus loves the little children.”  Tom sat down on the glider and cried as he told me how his little sister, age four had died. 

 

Now there are tree sprouts shooting up through  a  crack in the cement, and I had to get the fence latch fixed.

 

“You got what you paid for,” a friend told me and wondered why I just smiled.  He didn’t know that I  was listening to a little girl singing inside my head.

 

Someone else told me that I needed to organize my thoughts, poems, and, mostly, my life.  So, since I have pretty much started at the “now,” I will start all over on the next pages until there is a full circle.  There will be transition steps I call poems along the way.  Thanks for your company.

 

Introduction

If you have never spoken to a manikin, wore one dark blue and one black shoe shopping, or said “yes Ma’am” to a “sir,” … and laughed… you may not understand this blog.  However, hang in there and perhaps after we have become acquainted we will have laughed, cried, or at the very least, understood some of the spiritual abstractions we call life.    In my own words from my heart to your eyes, or from my eyes to your heart, in simple language, I present stories, poems, and experiences from both myself and some of my blind friends as a special gift of encouragement.       

 

I have not done anything grand, such as climbed Mount Everest, hiked the Appalachian trail, run a long marathon, participated in a sports event, nor had my name on the hit parade as quite a few blind people have done.  I take off all kinds of hats to those of you who have made these amazing things happen.

 

I, on the other hand, am just an every-day ordinary person that, except for my dog, you would never notice in a crowd, unless I bumped into you accidentally.

 

Every day I work very hard trying to hold my heart in the heavens with my feet on the ground.  This is not just a testimonial journey to grace, it’s a walk, a thought, a time, a space, a tear, but mostly JOY!  Prepare to laugh!