ABOUT THE BOOK

In case anyone may be wondering whatever happened to me or the book I have been talking about for quite some time … here’s the update. In about two weeks it will be ready! I know you aren’t as excited as I am about all this, but after learning the stages and work it takes to get to this point it is a little like a daydream coming true. Once it is out there I will send you an update as how to get a copy. IN the meantime, here’s just a little teaser, just in hopes you will remember and want to join me in this endeavor as life still is going on, in and after the book. Thanks to all who have encouraged me.

Now, from the book jacket:

In 1950, Myra Yarborough, age six, finds herself transported from rural North Carolina to the NC State School for the Blind in the state’s capitol of Raleigh. The family she loves seem far away as there are no phones in her home and a six week long stretch between visits. As America is changing, the school for the blind has an archaic feel and the housemothers seem to have stepped right out of one of Grimm’s fairy tales. Follow the challenges of growing up in an environment that seems resistant to change. Many people and friends contribute to Myra’s search for balance between a blind and sighted existence, between smiles and tears, and between opinions and reality. As you follow Myra’s growing years, you will get a glimpse of being blind through this perspective, and come away with a new understanding of blindness in the 1950s, as well as what it is like today.

Still more Blind Things

Since it is a rainy and dreary appearing day I thought I’d try to help someone smile by reliving a few interesting things that happened in my life this past December. I will not mention the time Vivi and I stood in a department for fifteen minutes waiting for a lady who said she would be “right back,” or the other helper who told me that scarves were “right over there,” or even the clerk who asked me if I was sure I knew what I was buying. We won’t mention the server at Chic Filet who told me to go find a table and she would bring me my order of grilled chicken nuggets and fruit cup. Just suffice it to say she had disappeared from the table Vivi found for us  before I could let her know I did not order fried nuggets and fries. All these things did really happen, and I smile about them as I think of them now; hope you will smile too.

… December

This night I am wrapping gifts. I find a big bag perfect for one of the gifts. The bag seems to appear in my closet from nowhere. I am now wondering if I have put that gift in a Victoria Secrets Bag, and whether it is a tensile Christmas scene or skimpy dressed little model under my tree.

…

Always I put Braille on my to and from Christmas gifts. No one gets to pick up their gift and shake it unless they crawl under the tree and bring it out for me to read. This year I put two Brailed labeled gifts in one family’s bag, not realizing the person ignored the second Braille name and kept both gifts.

…

I was a little disappointed when I brought home two very light pink pillowcases, until the wash when I fixed the problem by not paying attention and added in a red shirt.

…

In that same wash I put in my black jeans which fit tight. I thought they were my blue ones which fit just right. Oops!  Well, at least I surely won’t have to iron them.

…

I asked the waitress for more water. She sat it down in a new glass on the table. Not realizing that she had already put a new straw in the fresh water, I took the straw from my other glass. When I touched the glass to drink I realized there were two straws. The next time I raised my glass to drink, I thought it was cool that I did not have to touch the top of the glass with my finger in order to find where my straw was; surely my mouth would hit one of them. You guessed it, I missed both straws and my second glass of water flowed down my shirt. There was more ice than water.

…

Vivi and I had walked flawlessly from the mall entrance to the Apple store. Vivi had surprised me by finding the store by herself as we had only been there twice together, the last time six months earlier. Relying on her confident stride leaving the store, we increased our speed and whizzed right past a lady who, if driving, would have been too far into my lane, not looking at all where she was going. Suddenly she realized something white brushed her leg. Her voice was as loud as a siren as she leaned toward me and screamed close to my face. Vivi didn’t miss a beat but kept on wagging her tail as she charged on toward the door. My tongue hurt after biting it to keep from saying something mean to the woman. Is this how drivers feel?

  …

Pepper? … in my pop corn?

…

 

 

TBT from journal

 

January 1, 2008

It’s quiet and peaceful inside my heart. There are no problems to clutter up my communication with my own soul, so I am free to truly feel and enjoy this large portion of emotions God has given me. Because of Him I have lived to be sixty-four years old, to have a family to love, and a sweet black lab angel lying beside me ready to jump up just in case I might think of moving. I wish I could explain to some human how it feels to have a moment of peace like this. It’s like hearing the sigh of a tiny baby sleeping, or a beautiful song that drops chill bumps from heaven into a heart. Then there is a mom somewhere exhausted knowing she still must get up and finish the dishes but lies down for a quick rest on the sofa, only to notice the hands of her husband placing a soft throw over her tired body, warming her through and through as she hears the table being cleared. It’s the place in a strong man’s heart that melts when his child smiles; it’s every peaceful place I have ever experienced or read about all wrapped into a New Year’s package delivered today. It’s because there is truly a God and he  loves me and my family and the special friends he has allowed me to know.

There is not one of my friends or family I can think of today without loving them. There’s Mom with her eighty-seven years that have molded her life making it ready for heaven. I was fifty years old before I knew how shy she is. She’s just a little southern Baptist girl inside looking for a day like this one.

As I feel the warmth blowing from the vents in my heart I turn toward Jesus and pray that my friends and family experience such a time as this on this brand New Year’s Day.

It is with a heart filled with peace I begin to allow myself once more to touch the tender places inside me, even the tearful places I can only touch while God holds my hand; childhood tears that can still live if I let them, and I choose to let them only because those are the places that write sad poems or songs, so we can understand how to smile. Frankly it feels good to pick up a day of sadness and hold it in the hands of understanding, only because now seeing it clearly, stroking it’s pain, I can  put it away until my heart needs that kind of tenderness once more to remind me of God’s amazing grace.

 

2015

Today it is a sweet yellow lab, white like angel wings, who lies next to me just in case I think about moving. Pictures of my family grace my living room walls and heart. Has anything changed while the earth has circled the sun for seven more years? Certainly not God, and thank him for that! This year I feel it most important that I step out from the walls of my journal and let those I care about so much know how special they have been and are in my life! For those of you who have taken your time to read this, you are one of those people!